young honey

I.

the light lengthens
between blossom
and snow and
blossom

i taste hope
like young honey
drop by
drop

i want to drink
my fill
from the white wine
of your voice

i want to eat
my fill
from the fruit-bread
of your presence

II.

no spring day
bubbling over
fills the cup
of my heart

no full moon
flooding silver
cools the fire
of my hands

a face needs
the shiny mirror
of a face
in the night

i wait for
the morning
i wait more
than the watchman

Christina Egan ©2021