Brit Apis
mellifera
Rabbi unfurls the book of Hush
At the baby-naming ceremony
New widow, savta, grandmother
Enunciates Hebrew, cool stones
Circulate under a Turkic tent
Mother, father tell their stories
They speak of Larry: Grandpa
Gone as the baby was conceived
Carving smiles into faces
As bees rise wildly at the hive
Had it been another—gnat or Mayfly
We might have ignored them
Amassing into pulsing swarm
Alive, abuzz, above, alarm
A backyard sort of Passover
Our eyes move widely at the sky
While ears fill full of honeybee
Roaring fear conjoins with calm
As in the time of Abraham:
Thousands whirling in the sun
The boy will smile a sweet mélange
As any cast of shadow finds
Grandfather hiding in his eyes
The swarming mass he’ll never see
But hive of mind hums with the bees
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