By Rachel Baird
When I die and am released
I want the bees to feed again on my vacant body,
To swarm and land the way they do in spring,
For my sweet thorn bones
To carry the scent of tupelo honey,
Not broken down with age and bitter
Like all those paper lanterns,
Their brightly colored patterns
Dissolving into dust,
My promise is to remain supple and constant,
Carried wild on their bee limbs, belly, wings,
Their forward desires,
To float steady on the early breeze
Then dissipate back into hyaline dew,
From where I came,
Make everything in the new light of morning
Shine when I go.
Rachel Baird spends her winters walking Dogfish Bar for poetic inspiration.
