the honey

the children
in the street are
on fire,
excited by everything
and anything,
their desires
not quite set
on any one thing.
they run
from base to base,
up the snowy
slopes, darting
behind trees.
they are brilliant
in their
exuberance,
the energy that
they need to speed
about like
bees, not yet
tasting or knowing
what the honey
is, not yet.
they are still safe
for awhile.