[201] Sticky Like Honey

It's been days now

with uncertain skies

and gentle mists

awakening me at dawn.

Oh bliss, permission

to enter the abyss

to write a poem like this

to reminisce, go amiss

or find my bliss

in the gray quiet of a day.

No chroma or hue

just me and my memory

sticky like honey to its hive

its color and taste born

from flowers and pollen

chosen to feed.

Sticky, like geckos clinging

to my long-gone thatched roof

Sticky, like wandering ivy

journeying its way toward the sun

Sticky, like a forest's understory

flourishing below

or a coral reef teeming with life.

Sticky like honey

not clinging,

just finding my way.