Armed and Dangerous by Beth Gordon

Each morning between roses
and lavender, rows of
earth and tulips, he walks
like a man with a terminal
disease.  Something prolonged
debilitating, and unseen.
Careful not to startle
himself or anything else,
to examine each petal
before extending
his hand. He has a thousand
long stems to deliver
today. Prom season,
weddings, birthdays,
and funerals. He hears
them, their dangerous
buzzing as they move
nectar from plant to plant.
Honey-makers, hive
dwellers, harbingers
of his demise.  What’s he
so afraid of, JD asks,
it can’t just be a bee
sting.  Dead man walking
because of an insect
1/millionth his size?
Anything can happen
when you’re not looking,
I say, the boogie man is a sneaky
little bastard.

Beth Gordon 2
Beth Gordon is a writer who has been landlocked in St. Louis, Missouri for 17 years but dreams of oceans, daily. Her work has recently appeared in Into the Void, Verity La, Quail Bell,Calamus Journal, Five:2:One, After Happy Hour Review and others. She can be found on Twitter @bethgordonpoet.

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