Valkyrie
1 Minute Read Time
“Thirty thousand honey bees have died in three hours, falling victim to just thirty giant hornets.”
—BBC Earth, “Buddha, Bees and the Giant hornet Queen”
They arrive upon wings of scorched glass, carrying
the scent of burrowed earth & corpses. Summer air
shattering beneath their weight, the August sun
casting fire from its midday throne—sister,
how the behemoths descended, our hive
racked with quaking as they ram its paper shell.
The bravest of us rush into the ignited sky,
& are slaughtered just as quickly. A mountain
of our siblings’ remains strewn along the forest floor.
They tear our mother-queen to pieces & rip apart
the wriggling grubs. Sister, I watch as your head
is axed between one beast’s serrated maw; how quietly
it falls upon blades of parched grass, its slow & gentle roll.
Sister, never again will I mistake a quiet death
for a good one.
Read more from Issue 21.1.
