[ 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