On Reading Four Small Bees

On Reading: Four Small Bees Found Living in a Woman’s Eye

He could see in her eyes 
she'd been sweeping graves.
Memory and duty – incense 
and a yarrow-stalk broom
worrying away leaves and dirt. 
Unearthed, bees flew 
to her sweat, her sorrow. 
They knew no pollen 
could yield such honey –
love, so smoked with grief 
that it was holy.
Ancestral manna
to feed her, and
keep watch.

First published Sept 2020 in the I-70 Review

11 thoughts on “On Reading Four Small Bees

  1. INCREDIBLE piece. What a touching tribute.

    “bees flew
    to her sweat, her sorrow”

    This is a true goddess — the unseen, underappreciated, hurting worker. You are right and good to honor her.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. If Cormac McCarthy had heard of the news article he would have flown to it like a bee to sweat and tears. The mingling of the horror and the honey: it attracted you too, perhaps for the same reason as it compels the readers of your poem — “They knew no pollen/could yield such honey”: truth about duty, past love, memory, grief, intrusions we live with daily. (Thanks for recommending this piece, Randall. I’m not going to forget it anytime soon, I guarantee! FOUR. Did they say four???!!!

    Liked by 1 person

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