In a Florida Beeyard

In a Florida Beeyard

Modern poetry  modern verse  contemporary poetry  contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem

The lightest, powered gold is carried by

The bees.  They do not think of it as gold.

They do not think of it as light.  They fly

Through beauty’s air to beauty as of old,

An oldness older than mere humans.  Smifts

Of life they buzz from flower to flower in air,

In humming light, the light of gold.  Flight lifts

Their black and gold stripes like a godly flare

Designed with holy black to help us know

That stings and death cannot be split from birth.

The lightest powdered pollen that they sew

In carat beauty is the esse of earth.

..A lamentation holds the colors of

….This shimmered gold, black, air—and hell and love.