all of us, bees
Thankyou Anne Kellas for your notes on ‘The Invisible Poem’ that prompted these thoughts.
we are all minor poets
raconteurs of the invisible
members of an expeditionary force each fearing
the rush of arrows
unfashioned, still alive in their green wood
or we’re startled by the inaudible thunder
of planets swinging round distant stars
not ours to observe
it’s not the music of the spheres
though our souls may be tuned to it
we know there’s no sound in a vacuum
just in our heads, tinnitus
singing sine waves
high and invincible