AUSTIN, TX, USA
Suddenly the Tree
The hive slept like Argus its thousand eyes covered with bees. The light as it fell through the neem tree was a marine light, in which yellow moths set sail from one perforated shadow to another. The hive was mystic, a drugged mantra with its dark syllables asleep. As the afternoon wore on the honey-thieves came and smoked the bees out and carved out a honey-laden crescent for themselves and left a lump of pocked wax behind. The bees roamed the house, too bewildered to sting the children. At night they slept, clinging to the tree fork, now scarred with burns. Sparrows and squirrels, a bird with a black crest and a red half-moon for an eyelid bickered over the waxed remains the next day. Then with a drone of straining engines the bees rose like a swarm of passions from a dying heart, and left. [From 'The Glass-Blower: Selected Poems'] |
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