Telling the Bees
Little vials into which the sun has poured
I tell you all I know
about the failing crop, a marriage party,
a stricken cow.
Last summer I tied a ribbon
to the top of your home,
whispered with a sweet tongue
that a new master had come.
Winged engineers
you shape hexagon from wax,
craft perfect tessellations –
there is little I could teach you
but much I can share.
Gold furred confidents
today we speak like pelted sisters.
I whisper of when I licked the sweat
of his back as he slept
how love leaves a bitter taste to the mouth,
how men bring salt, not honey.
It will seem that the night has come early
as I cover you in black silk,
knock on each hive to spill my message.
I will sing as I dress you,
a doleful tune of death and desertion
my words a soft drone
Little bee, our lord is dead
Leave me not in my distress.
Anna Saunders‘ most recent collection is Feverfew. She is the author of Communion, (Wild Conversations Press), Struck, (Pindrop Press) Kissing the She Bear, (Wild Conversations Press), Burne Jones and the Fox ( Indigo Dreams) and Ghosting for Beginners ( Indigo Dreams, Spring 2018). Anna has had poems published in journals and anthologies, which include Ambit, The North, New Walk Magazine, Amaryllis, Iota, Caduceus, Envoi, The Wenlock Anthology, Eyeflash, and The Museum of Light. Anna is the CEO and founder of Cheltenham Poetry Festival. https://annasaunderswriter.co.uk/