Worker Bee #13953

Esmé Kaplan-Kinsey, United States

I creak open the beehive.
Skin gloves, suit, veil.
I steal half-moon plums
From the alley tree.
Tomatoes from
Raised wooden beds.

An amber trickle
Throat to stomach
Spooned into mouth
Like a resurrection.

Like I own some fraction
Of this glory.
Like the wisteria over the patio
Purples itself for me.

In the high left corner
Of the sky
A vulture
Like a fleck of pepper.

If this, the flimsy calibration of existence,
Is unruffled by my presence,
I must slot in somewhere.
A cell of my own.
And enough honey
To last the winter.

Esmé Kaplan-Kinsey is a 20 year old writer from California. They are currently a sophomore at Reed College. They are a 2020 Youngarts Finalist in Short Story and a Scholastic Gold Medalist, with work appearing in Ephimiliar Journal, Blue Marble Review, No Contact Mag and others. When not writing, Esmé enjoys nature walks and spending inordinate amounts of time making playlists.