THE BEEKEEPER'S DEPARTURE
Limited-edition poetry chapbook
Winner of the Backwards City Poetry Series Chapbook Prize
Backwards City Publishing, Greensboro, NC
SOLD OUT
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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—