The pollen, the blossom,
its hitherto sunlight.
The premature hive of you.
Premature because prior
to the riven garden.
Colony so blurred with rite
and labor, it doesn’t anticipate
exile. You
were not our home but our aftereffect.
You, the intense sweetness breaking into
the hive. Our prophets less than
prophetic, fumbling the air for,
they think,
you.
Daylight amiss
on the flowers, and each prophet’s
beard powdered with gold. Faithful
before your incipience, each bowing
to anther and stigma.
Elizabeth Robinson’s Vulnerability Index (Northwestern/Curbstone) is a finalist for the Forward Indie and Big Other poetry prizes. Being Modernists Together (Solid Objects) will be out in fall 2026.
Photo by Cristina Marin on Unsplash


