Warm Nectar

You are the apple I long to bite, a
peace luring me past the disquieting
din. I want to taste that sunbeam hidden
at your edges, where no one else goes.

Yesterday’s breeze still hankers for
you in the plummeting temperatures;
I dream of your dance with warm nectar
and the frosted hummingbirds buzzing by.

Your flesh praises the gods. Your
juices, sweet and tangy, savored and
shared, electrify the day. I crave the world

but would settle for three minutes
among your branches, so ardent and tender,
basking in the shade only you provide.

Robert Okaji is a displaced Texan living in Indiana. He holds a BA in history, served without distinction in the U.S. Navy, lived the hand-to-mouth existence of a bookstore owner, worked as a university administrator, and now bags groceries for a living. His work has appeared or is forthcoming in Taos Journal of International Poetry & Art, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, Panoply, High Window, Vox Populi and elsewhere. Visit his blog, O at the Edges, at robertokaji.com.