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The Spring equinoxhas come and gone green shaftsof iris and tulip have stabbed throughlayers of earth. Yellow heads of daffodils and purpleflashes of crocus have opened to the sun.Yet here it is the first day of April and the windchill is twenty three. We’ve had scatteredflurries, and I wonder whatContinue Reading

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Sitting with bees, Irrepressible energy hums like the sun Poured into Spring’s burgeoning blossoming. Honeyed sweetness is gathered in quickness, But, Ah! It’s been cold for them now. Many have drowned in a late April hail, And each day they drop out their dead To the doorstep. I am stunnedContinue Reading

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As it chewsthroughthe nurseryloaves,hatching broodtunnels throughan immaculate darknessimmured withcareful clippings. Its birth intothe light bristleswith a certaintyunknown to uswho wakeinto an opacityso densely vacuousthat we subsiston sifted memories. Estée Arts Crenshaw is a doctoral candidate in the department of Writing & Rhetoric Studies at the University of Utah. She receivedContinue Reading

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dreamt a country of wild beesduring the usual restless sleeponly, they were augmented by the troubleof domestication, that in mind’s countrythe systems are kept in line, in delicate assemblage when I woke, I wished this world to be madeof hexagonal prisms, a honeycomb we could climb throughand lay up againstContinue Reading

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I am waiting for a day that is warmand without wind. I need a splitfor my mediums, a spring swarmto find my trap and deign to use it.I’ve painted boxes, placed lavendersprays in line to wick the top feeder,used lemongrass oil as lure. Howeverempty my frames are now, I shallContinue Reading

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When bees are born, we’re told we have a singular purpose: to serve the colony. Worker or drone, our job is to make sure the future of the colony is secure. In plain terms, we exist to support the queen. And if she ever stops doing what her singular purposeContinue Reading

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A firstborn sorrow buffers its descendantsIn the same way early bees in a hiveSmear propolis into every crackEncasing the queen in darkness Estée Arts Crenshaw is a doctoral candidate in the department of Writing & Rhetoric Studies at the University of Utah. She received her MFA in creative writing fromContinue Reading

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Back in the old days,It would be busy, I could still smell the fresh honey…Every car would make their stop. That quick stop to that convenience shop,My grandparents sharecrop.Passengers grabbing honeypots and honey buns. Back in today’s days,It is so dusty.It is like my sunset, rusty. I can smell theContinue 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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Sisters,I would not unwild younor attempt to keep. Look at your wings! Say gossamer& have it be too thicka word for the whir of you! Some fool men define your liquor asdistillation of fallen rainbows, they say,constellations made dew you gather, but I know better- how females strive, orchard orContinue Reading