I read somewhere there’s an
orchid whose flower is shaped
like the female of a long dead
species of bee.
Big, bitter fruits that no-one eats,
drop to the ground and rot
“Decay”, “Falling Through the Ice” and “Coping Mechanism”
Rose oil, sandalwood
and lavender—poured over
honeycomb piles deep in
rumbling woods. Bare feet
missing twigs, silence heard
but for birds, and low hums of
red earth.