The cut-leaf penstemons grow thick in pots;
The buds crowd up the stems in eager ranks,
Some nothing more than tiny yellow dots,
Some little fish with scarlet on their flanks,
Some bigger fish with haughty mouths shut tight—
And all the biggest ones begin to sing:
Their splendid soft magenta throats are bright
With buzzing black and yellow notes that zing
From mouth to mouth like catchy little tunes;
And when the songs are done, the fishes fall;
They slip their stems until the porch is strewn
With purple dresses for a fairy’s doll...
One bee goes in a likely-looking bloom
And both fall with a thump! and one goes zoom!