Go Tell the Bees

At the moment of my final breath,
Before a single human tear is shed,
Rush to the fields, face the wind,
And tell the bees that I am dead.
Leave a loaf of bread and a glass
Of wine on the Earth beside their hive,
And hear the buzzing mourners sing
Hymns in honor of my newfound stillness.
Hum with them as they rise and fall
With me, an empathic gesture mirroring
My descent into the bowels of oblivion.


These pieces are currently being displayed at 22 North Gallery in Ypsilanti, MI as part of the sixth annual Festival of the Honeybee.