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Open the closed beehive,Conquistadors are lurking our world. Maps of destinies merging our florals. My past meets my present,My future meets my past.My present is the end.All interconnected. I meet another bee,Another dimension eclipses me,Entreated with a new queen bee, Just not the same bee universe… Usurped my wrecked world,ChoicesContinue Reading

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came from nowhere, descended in a dark swarm,surrounded the stacked wooden boxes.Zinging hums in heated crescendo—they crawled over the surface, crowding white paintto brown, clustered in combat with our bees,trying to fight their way into the home hive.We stood at the window and watched, helplessto halt the carnage, to saveContinue Reading

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Estranged from my family, I was surprised at the call.“Master Anders?” said the voice. There was a distinct buzzing, what might have been electrical interference or perhaps–“Yes? Yes? Hello,” I said. “Yes. This is Anders. Hello?”The voice on the line began a coughing fit. He had covered the receiver withContinue Reading

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I peek into wherewe keep them too weak nowbut to lean in nearly kneelingat worship only cleared tospeak of them in these newsleaks & hearsay I’ve had to swearoff from honeyed lips Mark DeCarteret has been working at Water Street Books in Exeter NH for 10 years. Worked at StroudwaterContinue Reading

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Such buzz the honey bee:small wonder Miles Davislived in a bee-loud glenwhen he played his hornlet his wings vibratefrom bee balmto marsh blazing star. John Davis is a polio survivor and the author of Gigs and The Reservist. His work has appeared recently in DMQ Review, Iron Horse Literary Review,Continue Reading

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I walked in my house stuffed with honey…Those hands are filled with my own honeycombs… I filled my jars with my own orange marmalade. My beehive was swarmed with nectar… Their juice and nutritions are nothing,My bees love me but I was a mere hobby beekeeper in my heart… IContinue Reading

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Your brother posted a pictureof his tattooed arm: a stenciledhoneycomb, black hexagonsinked around his flexed bicep,a math equation written in your handin a space between joined cells.He said this tattoo commemoratedyour birthday one year after your death.I live six hundred miles away. I’ve never shownmy bee poems to him, orContinue Reading

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A billowing plume of dust raged across the sprawling grassland. Darkness gripped the sky as the black blizzard waged onward towards the Oklahoma expanse. Since 1930, the swirling storm of dust and dirt has cascaded over fertile farmland, devastating crops and ways of life across Boise City. With an absenceContinue Reading

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Fascinated all my life by acrobatic bees,and honey-dependent, I wanted to writea poem about them, then realizedthat my elusive subject was right under my nose,literally, in and out of the hollow red cedar treeat the center of our Sarasota condo complex:a swarm of 150,000 bees moved in practicingtheir circus actsContinue Reading

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Here is the light he was born intofragile green glowalready in wind and leavesday winding downTo open a tunnel of airTo hover above the cloverhomeless in lovewith the touch of earthTo waver in brush and weedsInvincible flit of flight John Davis is a polio survivor and the author of GigsContinue Reading