21 October 2007 | Vol. 7, No. 3
After Your Colony Collapses
Disappeared colonies, even pinyons fled. And there's more.
Apiarists abandoned smoke, stings, but sap trails said there's more.
With a curse or a promise, targets set up for arrows.
Lose count, feint the blows and lose your head but still, there's more.
Reconcile my wrists against your wrists, clasped fists like a kiss.
It's these, the stuck pages gone unread, when it seems there's more.
Auguries interpreted incorrectly caused a fever.
Dry heat leathers skin, embeds bread in bones that know there's more.
Gift the thunderegg, teethe on junipers, drive to the white dove.
One one-thousand, two…, lightning and strike unwed—wait there's more.
Could it be me, a hiveless, honeyless and collapsed bee?
Pollen's sweetness on a tongue misled keeps hoping there's more.
About the author:
Melissa Severin lives in Chicago and works in search engine marketing. Her poems have appeared in MoonLit, The Alembic, and The Cultural Society. Brute Fact, her forthcoming chapbook, will be out in February from Dancing Girl Press.
For further reading:
Browse the contents of 42opus Vol. 7, No. 3, where "After Your Colony Collapses" ran on October 21, 2007. List other work with these same labels: poetry, ghazal.
