Monday, February 18, 2008


Heritage climbing roses adorn our deck. Pink and white, they attract thousands of bees. Heaven on a long stem. A couple of over-grown shoots offend my eye, so I fetch the secateurs to lop them. Two down, one more – out there…. I miss the top step and begin a short journey to the concrete paving. Half over the top railing I fling an arm around a bunch of rose stems, hug them to my chest.

The thorns bite into my hand and bare arm, I teeter a moment, stop. A thousand nervous bees circle my head.

on the thorns of a dilemma –
all that bites
is not necessarily your enemy

by John Irvine
Auckland, New Zealand

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