Explore "A Flower of the Fields" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Bee-bitten in the orchard hung / The peach; or, fallen in the weeds, / Lay rotting: where still sucked and sung / The gray bee, boring to its seed's / Pink pulp and honey blackly stung.
The orchard path, which led around / The garden, -- with its heat one twinge / Of dinning locusts, -- picket-bound, / And ragged, brought me where one hinge / Held up the gate that scraped the ground.