Sean Borodale
20TH OCTOBER: BROOD NEST HONEY
20TH OCTOBER: BROOD NEST HONEY
Black honey in its dark brood cells
is a wild liquor of ecstatic work.
Bright sun and gauze exhaust its details.
We fall to our second winter, bees.
The grass .flaked out of frost white bones last night,
emaciatingly bright.
Your ultra-commune is still unlocked, you fly,
but feel the globe of cluster remembered
like vapour ghost breath smoke-ring trick of circular,
contracted.
And we, beekeepers,
can only open the book part way to read what is unsaid.
Not being your drones we do not see like you.
Eyes fed and lit up.
Eyes starved and kicked out.
That was a drone's life, all summer's sight.
We lean on our human eyes,
absorbed into honey black with cocoon stain.