THE BEEKEEPER'S DEPARTURE

Limited-edition poetry chapbook

Winner of the Backwards City Poetry Series Chapbook Prize

Backwards City Publishing, Greensboro, NC

SOLD OUT


               

Read a review by CutBank, literary journal of the University of Montana.

 


THE BEEKEEPER'S DEPARTURE

By Jennifer Chapis

I want to say I sensed an animal-sound,
but that's not true.

You rose mutely into the sky
like a bone-bit moon.

By the time I arrived,
no coast remained.

Even the bees    silent.

History is not behind us.
I've trained myself to hear

your tongue
a plum in its breath-blue bowl.

Burning logs shift
in a fire pit, grief's weight

settling for gravity's sake.
Think honey-bitter

bead of sap
endlessly drying.

I’ve known you better than anyone.
Roots pushing up through sand,

longing blooms against black bark
before new leaves sprout.

Ancient plum trees
concealed in sight.

Horizon, blister about us—