238 Readings | 1 Rating

[ the door ]-1

on this land    we live on rolling green
hives the bees
run swarm overtake the pot  honey
overtakes the pot         waggles
the dance a charm of smoke   community  smoke
or if supersedure may occur    the new
fat queen’s royal jelly lives here there according to honeycomb
may unwind our nascent
scarves [ silk, velvet, muslin, linen ] microcosms    peaceful
shenanigans      but brutal the murder    pesticide
the child cries allay, leave some for me, allay one
true turquoise eye in the morning    why this calm crow squawks
middle-aged the crow          bees light hazes
sounds of knots in wood    the souls of trees
made mercy for ripe old age but couldn’t convalesce in groups of three
two one liftoff    now and then you listen time nigh high climbing
ascend     traverse these stairs your
coffee awaits you
oh you oh me
Posted 11/22/13
first in a series of poems written to reflect upon life in the era of colony collapse disorder, both as it relates to actual bees, and as a metaphor for other, more human collapses
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