“Last of the Honey”

by Laura Grace Weldon

from the last of our bees
requires a spoon long and strong
enough to scrape a final huddled
glow from the jar’s corner. Gold
turned to crystal, gold flickered
with pollen’s memory of blossoms,
gold of real wealth in a time when
real, isn’t. A single worker bee makes
about a twelfth of a teaspoon of honey
in her short steadfast lifetime. Now
our hives are silent. I lift the spoon
to waiting mouths of our youngest
family members, each in turn says
ewww at the taste and I damn
the river of regret coursing through me,
smile instead at faces unaccustomed
to such sweet intensity. I refuse
for now, to consider all they face.

Laura Grace Weldon lives in a township too tiny for traffic lights where she works as a book editor, teaches writing workshops, and maxes out her library card. Laura served as Ohio’s 2019 Poet of the Year and is the author of four books. Learn more about Laura at lauragraceweldon.com.