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
