Ode to Honey

Text from Ode to Honey by Hannah Lloyd Rindlaub:

Here’s to clotheslines and 1950’s house wives, to the land of milk and honey,
honey bears, and home-bound brothers, to the voice of Etta and all mothers, to the mothering fathers, to the bee keepers, and to the house cats, that only reside in the shafts of light from the windows,

Here’s to little Debbie’s honey buns, and the buns of the honey that first pulls him in, that poster he tacks to his door and called himself a man, to the school yard girls that kick shins, to bouncing yellow locks, to pork chops and apple sauce,

Here’s to her cousin’s heels that made her knobby legs unfamiliar, to radios hanging from bicycle handlebars on dirt roads, to solo-dancers who aren’t afraid to get freaky, to sun on skin, to long baths and skinny-dipping,

Here’s to the wild-eyed poet Van Morrison and his “Angel of the first degree,” to long drives that you want to go on for longer, to the dodge and that perfect day, to hand holding the dad way, to the old souls that grow up and still love clichés,

Here’s to snail-mail, Dixie cups, and Eggo waffles, to the kid with always sticky fingers, the kite-flyers and the happy-criers, to weathered hands and meaty hips, to the Grandfather that calls his wife Queen, to the liquid sun,

here’s to the “laughter that never leaves the lungs,”

Here’s to your honey.