Summer's Pleasures

Pink tastes like cotton candy, too sweetly sticky on the tongue, teeth rattling, hanging on for balance, like the flower flies and bees plumbing every blossom.

Don't Shoo, Flies!

Today's asters shook

under the weight
of so many-winged things:
bumblebees, large and small;
skippers; cucumber beetles;
one yellow-collared scape moth;
and a cloud of Steampunk
flower flies: spiked
shiny black abdomens,
vested in gold brocade.

This joint
was jumpin'!