honey is the best among sugars
only honey glistens under threat of storm
only honey taps rhythm into tin buckets

my mother placed honey between
peanut butter and Wonder
crystallized by lunch

giving meals at school
the brittle hint of treasure
or injected into sopapilla

some nights were also treasure
one can spy one’s childhood
through the golden sheen

a place you can only touch again
by plunging through the viscous wall
such sluggish journey

discouraged by the coagulant of days
pressed down like a legion of curtain
tawny in shrouded light

this morning I had honey on toast
where it mixed in a lake of butter
I avoided contact with all but the tongue

for only the mouth which also gifts
us breath can comprehend
honey’s insistent embrace

Corbett Buchly’s poetry has appeared in SLAB, The Interpreter’s House, North Dakota Quarterly, and Dream Catcher. He is an alumnus of Texas Christian University and the professional writing program at the University of Southern California.