Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

David Brooks

The Bees

The Bees

The Bees

I dream of myself
asleep upon a hillside,
those huge black bees – cmrlje
emerging from the
dark hole of my mouth.
The bees
are groggy
and struggling toward the light
What have they
left in me?
What will they bring
from their slow
groping
over the bright fields?
How will I store it?
How will I take it home?
Close

The Bees

I dream of myself
asleep upon a hillside,
those huge black bees – cmrlje
emerging from the
dark hole of my mouth.
The bees
are groggy
and struggling toward the light
What have they
left in me?
What will they bring
from their slow
groping
over the bright fields?
How will I store it?
How will I take it home?

The Bees

Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère