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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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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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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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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