Pomegranate Bees


for some reason you are gone
I have taken you away from me

I am going to tell you now
how it is to look at a friend
and not see them as they are
but what you are making them.

Cut the pomegranate skin.
Find not the juice-coated seeds
(kernels encased in ruby placenta)

but a world—thousands of bees
bzzz bzz bzzzzzzz
inside the papery combs
that stack,
lead into each other—





Note: This is a first draft. As I was writing, my spark fizzled, and I could not get past the ‘stacks.’ I didn’t want to compromise the poem by forcing wonderment, etc… 


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