The Bees Sting Poem by Robert Rorabeck

Oh then, I saw you there beneath
The lodges in the mountains where the smoke
Purred from the lips of the woman in
The fire
And the snow melted in the footprints and cascaded
Down for a great distance, rushing
And galloping through the deadfall
Too busy for the lips of the insatiable panthers-
Into the pools of the sororities of aspen
Who extended their long bangs in the
Tears of the emollition
And I sat there, sketching her in that nude scene:
She never once looked up at me,
Even though her face reflected everything
Even as the sky slowly pulled her away,
And the heavens came- and she waited for the promises
That they gave her to come to be,
As the flowers perfume, as the bees sting.