My girl came home last night and told me, tearfully, that the new owners of our old house cut down her favorite tree – the only one in our yard she could climb, and the one I often loved looking at through the dining room window. It always shed large branches in wind storms or heavy rain, but it’s dark, fat old limbs always reminded me of muscles and the bees loved the brief white blossoms in the spring. Farewell, old tree.
From 2015:
Spring / The Hive
Outside the bees fly in
And out
Of so many down-turned white blossoms
Hanging from branches
Heavy with green leaves
Curtains forming a shady canopy
Inside it the constant
Buzzing
Is
Soothing
I close my eyes
Turn off my loud thoughts
And join the hive.
by Julie Blue 