Simone Belanger
Arts & Culture Editor
for the tiny hand
to the spiderweb to the
last cliff to stand on flatland
i was a bee who refused to sting
i was neither black nor yellow
but i was hungry for
incoherent things
and the more i poured
the more the jug gulped
i was a nonentity who defied
to stand, always, in the nth line
to be defined by soulless strings
to view as finite
the nest in the seabird in
an even greater nest
i was a sorceress who dissolved
the fearsome loathing of the void
for all the little, translucent wings
those iridescent
frail membranes
that cannot bear the misty rain
for them i plucked
a leaf, a bright green piece
a token of ancient civility
and sheltered this new company
her name
hastily whispered
farewell, lady bumble bee
