You called me honey

Casually

You called me honey 

Seeing the worry in my eyes 

Your words reached out

With the warmth of a hug 

These caressed my ears

With unspoken stewardship

Remembering the first time 

With shaking hands 

You stood at my door 

Cold, bringing me seeds 

Insistent that I take 

The small gift proffered 

Like a wild seed yourself 

The wind had carried you to my porch

With the asters and beggarticks 

Invasive, persistent, naturalizing yourself 

Patiently worked into the soil 

Sometimes impatient for the harvest

Or just for me 

To see the myriad of your acts of care 

Hungry for me to notice and

To care, too — and I do 

Yet can you see the red flags flutter 

In that same wind that carried you here

Red like fire  

And sparks that fly free

Can burn down a house

This fire flares with your frustration 

Why is it I’m so hard to read? Because 

Fear does that, it makes a mask 

Not to hide from you, or trick you

My skin remembers how quickly 

Embers burn and scar 

It shields me from your heat 

I fear being consumed 

Knowing clay, when it is fired 

Never melts again 

But it can break…

So casually you call me

Honey

Make me want to lean in