And, near the very close of day,
I couldn’t help but chuckle
To happen on a splendid spray
Of yellow honeysuckle.

I’d thought its time had come and gone,
And that had made me sober.
But here it was still blooming on,
And that in mid-October!

It being late, I wondered if
It still had any fragrance.
And, leaning in, I caught a whiff
Of innocence and flagrance.

And, having ascertained that smell,
I wandered on as night-time fell.

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

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