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Issue 29: | August 2025 |
Poem: | 112 words |
...sifting down the bee-fried air, by God, the bee-fried air!
—Ray Bradbury, Dandelion Wine1
Bees squirm, shove themselves out from earthen burrows just as we push our way through our mother’s pelvic girdle. Perhaps for bees, sun-gilt pollen fills each larval cell with longing, makes each bee into a seed agog with this inherent, this unconquerable need. Imagine entering spring’s heart-breaking light with the glory of untried wings to snap and flick and thrum the air, with hundred-lensed bay-window eyes to go agog at the sun-spectrum spectacle—light careening off everything, from every direction, and to somehow know, without understanding why, exactly how to live here, in this vast, unanticipated world.
Publisher’s Notes:
Links were retrieved on 25 July 2025.
⚡ The Mystery of Disappearing Bees, collaborative photo-poem by Roy Beckemeyer and Skyler Lovelace reprinted in KYSO Flash (Issue 12, Summer 2019), below which also appears Roy’s photograph of a honey bee drinking nectar from Culver’s root
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