City of Bees

In a late golden light

I heard the song

and found the city—

tower and shadow—

rising from the ground.

The summer was lively,

insistent,

though our world held itself

motionless

and quiet,

every word held back

and waiting.

I knelt on rock

bare as the faces of tombstones

and felt them,

busy at their work,

the coming and the going

all around me.

One by one they slipped

into the dark round mouths

of their genius

and went down into

the humming belly of the earth.

Libbie Grant

June 25, 2020