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We’ve suited up into our white coveralls, gloves, hard hats, elasticized netting. Tom says he feels like a volunteer firefighter on a last-minute call, pulling on equipment, rushing out the door. My suit is stained with splotches of honey and propolis and old smoker residue. In three years, I’ve neverContinue Reading

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Bees crashing,Fights gaining wind,I feel the stings in my legs… Hunting down my queen in a slow pace,Fertilising her at one go,She goes flying by mating flight.Disappearing as she would. Bleeding with each beeping,I feel the stings in my legs… Misbeliever!I am ejected from my nest!Only for the sake ofContinue Reading

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Rebecca Patrascu works as a library associate for the Sonoma County Library. Her writing has appeared in publications including Smartish Pace, Glint, The Shore, Bracken Magazine, Prairie Schooner, Colorado Review, and Valparaiso Review. She has an MFA from Pacific University and is the author of the chapbook Before Noon. SheContinue Reading

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Sweet Time Honey’s timeless flowmocks the clock’s imperativetakes its own sweet time On Making Frames The keeping of beesBecomes a carpenter’s affair;tonight, I’ll wash the gluenot the honeyfrom my hair. Solstice Restless, knowing thateven the longest day castsshadows on the hive Mary Salome (she/her) is a queer Arab- and Irish-AmericanContinue Reading

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Guiding and gliding as a siren,She is the queen bee of this new eusociality,Is she my Quantic belle? I blush as a drone!Instrumental shapeshifter in the apiary,We acreage all our beekeeping. Safeguarding beehives to serve our queen bee.I blush as a drone!Is she my Quantic belle?She is the newest pleonexia.Continue Reading

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You can train the eye to spot heramong her many daughters;elongated abdomen, the darkthorax worn like a shield.And the way the others face her:a retinue of petals arounda flower’s ovary. They chose her,raised her, feed her, guard her.They would, if needed,surround her in a ball,with their bodies warm her,kill herContinue Reading

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The keepers mourned & the people asked what happens when the buzz is gone…where the apples, how the melons, can pickles be replaced? Everyone concerned wanted a conversation & talk is the opposite of observation. Consider the patience of a man seeking to understand the messages of bees, comprehend stepsContinue Reading

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The bees are laden with pollenthis time of year. I watch themlabor to rise, to carry theirbounty home. No malaise there, no sense of opportunities lost,ninety days doing what they wereborn for, a life fulfilled.Retirement is not part of their contract, of course, never thishammock, never these gin rickeys,never thisContinue Reading

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Eloping,I ran back to the fresh beehive,I found solace in those little creatures, I shut down all modalities of modernity.I craved for peace when my heart pulsed. Freshly allied with the horizon,I laughed with the honeybees, Pulsating of thrills,I relapsed in an extinguished breathe, One which I lost on myContinue Reading