Wednesday, July 5, 2017

Bee lines

Bees etch paths in air
from hive to tulip tree
and back to hive again.

I’ve watched them go and come,
their flights, like cursive scripts,
never straight but onward.

If a hive has myriad bees
think of the traces they leave,
the lines they scratch in air,

each recorded, drop by drop,
in soft wax tablets
with stylus tongues.


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Anonymous said...

beautiful poem about something as seemingly simple yet complex as bees