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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373591" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Untitled: Back they Sputter</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373591" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Back they sputter like the fires of love, the bees to their broken home<br>Which they're putting together again for dear life, knowing nothing<br>Of the heart beating under their floorboards, besieged here, seeking<br>A life of its own. All day their brisk shadows zigzag and flicker</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373591" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Along a whitewashed gable, trafficking in and out of a hair-crack<br>Under wooden eaves, where they make a life for themselves that knows<br>No let-up through hours of exploration and return, their thighs golden<br>With pollen, their multitudinous eyes stapled to a single purpose:</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=373591" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">To make winter safe for their likes, stack-packing the queen's chambers<br>With sweetness. Later, listen: one warm humming note, their night music.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Eamon+Grennan">Eamon Grennan</a></strong></div>

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