Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Let Down Your Eyes

What is this plant,
this deep seeded bumble bee that lies before me?
Surely it can not be the moon?
I have traced the moon with my finger
and wandered in the light
only to lick the icing off the spoon
again and again.
You say you want wonder –
look out your window.
There are a million lights just waiting for your eyes.
Over and over the drag of winter has left you down
bundled and huddled
like some old man waiting for his bus.
When spring comes you will miss the tulips.
It is like that with some.
They want fireworks
when there are shooting stars all around them.