Space between bars are like open windows to a bee. Seems a slim meal but sometimes it's what you don't see --
herbs in a sauce; all the words removed from a line of poetry.
Absence is a conveyance for lushness. What is our bee sipping on?
Agastache Kudos Mandarin. A perennial hyssop. Honey-mint-scented plumes. Pinkish orange. What's not to love? What's not to be smitten by?