Jars of honey

Browsing on a Saturday

At the local farmers' markets

We spot a honey stand

With five different colours of honey

Dark toffee through to watery morning sunlight

And behind it a girl I instantly can't relate to

With bright red lips

And an easy, confident smile

Dolling out samples of honey

On icypole sticks

***

She dips the sticks into the honey

And watches us lick it off

Then silently holds out a glass jar

With a label that says USED STICKS

And smiles a smile that isn't meant for us

A smile that holds secret jokes

Or private annoyances wrapped in pink

***

She tilts another sample jar sideways

An amber-hued honey

from Byron Bay

Dips a new stick in it

And watches

As we cover our tongues

in the frangipanis by the ocean

surfboard slick sweetness

of flower nectar transformed

by a hive of

black and yellow

bees

***

I love honey

And would have tried all the flavours

But that smile made me uneasy

So I bought a small jar

The weight of the cool glass

satisfying in my hand

And walked away

Thinking how lovely it is

that this honey came from a purple tree

Whilst the distant static

From that smile

Buzzed anxiously in my ears