Poem 20150712

a million bees
is what he said

a million bees in the
hollowed out knothole
of the old oak

in the rising heat
under the shade of its own branches
the sluggish bees crawled
around the entrance
to the hive
each bee
a drop of water in a wave
an undulation of apiary activity

we stood on the trail
talking in whispers
though you couldn’t
even hear them humming

in my neighborhood
you used to see them swarm
inside the water valve boxes
near the sidewalk
escaping the concrete covers
through little keyholes
to look for nectar or maybe
better digs

in the end the city
would send someone to remove them
i never found out if they were relocated
but the evidence of their broken hives
cracked wax chambers dripping honey
remained, drying on the sidewalk
swarmed with ants

Poem 20150504

in the failing light we search with dimmed eyes
can the scent cling still to the air
the dogs whine and wish to return, the prize
uncaught and the horses toss their manes. unfair

to say the least, having tracked through woods thick
with brambles and thicker still with shadows long
only to have it disappear, a third rate magician’s trick
but we will track it by its song

as the now sun sinks below the line of trees
we hear it above our ragged exhalations
and the quiet humming of sleepy bees
we take up our arms, and greet the dark occasion

Poem 20141222

where you walk
stones split open
underfoot
and voices of fire
whisper the secrets
of worlds below

where you tarry
lavender springs from the earth
and the air fills with
the conversation of bees
and the whispers of hummingbirds

where you sleep
the stars weep with bitterness
envious of the earth
upon which you lay your head
and the darkness
seeks to cover you
like a mantle