LEONORA CARRINGTON: TELL THE BEES
I’m no longer talking to bees.
They don’t listen. Actually,
my buzz bores bees. As a human,
I’m cloudy with bad ideas
and worse behaviors. The bee says
“I have a flower to dandle. Go back
to the porch and read your paper
full of the vicious things
you do to each other.” I go.
When a bee speaks, I listen.
All animals do. It’s not a fear
of the sting. Bees make sense,
pep up a blossom.
A groundhog, who I admit I dislike,
thinks a bee is a goddess or god.
Who am I to say he’s wrong?
Their wings carry Mt. Olympus,
A new morning comes. A bee
drops it on our neighborhood.
A sunflower opens for business.