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Sunday, 21 April 2019

Tomb-Sweeping Day

The ophthalmologist, whose name is Hung,
tugs on one of three visible legs
protruding – an extra, alien set
of lashes. Then another, then another.
The woman, named only as He, did not
rub, kept all four Halictidae alive
nourished by tear-salt, saving her own sight.
News stories show close-ups on big screens
on Taiwanese TV, their eight silver-black wings
and antennae preserved; tiny stings
(apparently like one hair catching fire)
unused. From my kitchen, I realise I can’t
remember visiting a grave – let alone
sweeping one – as He had, the day before.
The ants and Ancestors barely taking note
of the fragments which catch in our eyes.

© Caleb Parkin

Four bees found living inside woman’s eye, drinking her tears

Caleb Parkin - [Website: Could Be the Moon] [Twitter: @CalebParkin]

Caleb is a poet, performer, facilitator & filmmaker, based in Bristol. He works with schools, museums, universities and others & is completing an MSc in Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes. Winner, Winchester Poetry Prize 2017 National Poetry Competition 2016 - 2nd Prize The Rialto Open Pamphlet Competition 2016 - Shortlist Watch filmpoem 'Bony Orbit' on Atticus Review I was on Poetry Please here

1 comment:

  1. I like it on several levels. Glad the bees survived. I too have never swept a grave though, two years ago in Orkney, I swept into one. Dramatically, as the light was behind me. [As illustrated here: https://onepieceaweek.blogspot.com/2016/09/tomb.html]