Pucon, Chile. That Seductive Flower

I stopped and peered at this one flower in the Hotel Antumalal Garden

My mind slid down its petals

Damp and seductive

I felt as though I was usurping an unsuspecting bee

Of his divine maiden

I felt a twinge of erotic guilt

Yet, did not this flower, She –

Keep herself open for me?

And me, with the glee of a kid

Stolen cookies in hand –

Took one last glance and moved on…

With nectar in my mind

And no guilt held toward that bee

It greedily elsewhere

But here, Cuckolded…