Elegy of the Honey Makers
The bees have their own abstract language independent of time & place for something is burning.
It was not mistakes they enunciated but rather mist aches, stumbling back toward their melting pot.
This much we know: the heart’s thin, & superficial-dark liquid flows through it, a lake on fire.
I wanted to wake you.
To show you the fog disintegrating off the lawn as if the world below were smoldering.
Violins for wings.
The hive gone gothic above the grass & iceberg lettuce, the purpling tomatoes & fawn
panting slower & slower.
How the clover crowned
its damp head
as black & gold,
black & gold
struck the i
About the Author
Flower Conroy is the author of Facts About Snakes & Hearts (winner of Heavy Feather Press’s Chapbook Contest), The Awful Suicidal Swans, and Escape to Nowhere. Her poetry has appeared/is forthcoming in American Literary Review, Prairie Schooner, Gargoyle, and others. She is the current Poet Laureate of Key West.