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No part of this poetry should be reproduced in any form without written consent from the author, Joe DiMino, who retains all rights: contact

"Sweet-tooth" (by Joe DiMino)

I watched a bee
Flit from flower to flower—
Thought of my Flitting-days;
My own sweet-tooth;
And how youthful blossoms
Once smiled back at me,

Let loose their misty-scents—

We were quite the Garden-junkies;

All blossoms and bees
Of a sort;
Demons of Spring-fever—
Coloring ourselves,
Buzzing and accelerating
With wings—
Myself quite dashing
In yellow and black armor,
My sword mostly for show,
Thinking more of love
Than battles;
More of Sun
And its magnetic
When it comes to blossoms
And bees—

Even old bees and old blossoms
Still think of early season
Their first budding
And the building of mile-high hives;

It’s all about nectar,

About honey,


And mine,
Though gone
Is nevertheless
A space for all my sweets.

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