The Beekeeper's Departure
Limited-edition poetry chapbook
Backwards City Poetry Series Chapbook Prize
Backwards City Press, Greensboro, NC
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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 there was an animal sound,
but even I know that’s not true.
You simply rose into the sky
like a bone-bit moon.
By the time I arrived, there remained
no coast to speak of.
Even the bees silent.
History is not behind us.
I have trained myself to know
the open palm of your tongue
supple like 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 out of the sand,
longing blooms against black bark
before the new leaves sprout.
Ancient plum trees masked in sight.
Horizon, blister about us