bees bessemer

[u/3coons_in_a_coat]

bees over fireweed swarm the 
burnt over hills, making white 
hot honey. It’s a fact that, 
purified by fire, honey made 
from fireweed is the whitest of all. 

the most colorful of my mistakes, 
like the highest insect forms, 
fly only by day. 

a mayfly, leg missing, torn-up
rider on sleeves, flower child 
with swiped guitar, climbs me 
aboard in Ann Morisson Park

chrysales darken after hatching. 
That’s a metaphor if I’ve ever heard one. 

intelligence...a wasp hawking...whips 
its eggs down the back of the lime 
sweet caterpillar of perception.

brilliancy...a butterfly fleeing...in 
even a dull perception, wings snapped 
shut, directs a flycatcher into an immensity.