“I know how to speak
bee,” you announce
standing naked
in the kitchen
swinging your striped
cotton dress
back and forth
 
An impromptu relevé
and you flit
from the old pine chest
to the desk
and back again 
like the honey bee
whose language
you now understand
 
“Do they die
after
they sting you?” 
 
Hope fills your eyes. 
 
Sometimes I look
at you,
my daughter,
and I know,
like me,
there are moments
when you are
filled
with the
madness
of the
moon.  

— Katharine Hollister 

Honorable Mention, Eye On Life Poetry Contest 2010-2011