“Beehive” by Erin Rizzato-Devlin
The day is a small creature
gilded with a thin leaf of
blind adulation,
to be unwrapped and
undressed, as to lay
a hand on its back
to find the spine of
gold that covers
its false immunity,
the meridian beam
of an illusion.
It brushes the morning
with a light breath
of aromatic insistence,
promising with a pale
blue eye a new
beginning before
it turns the corner
to the terrible descent
of the years.
It sings the promise of
wild honey and a handful
of days to walk this earth
to all the lost creatures
that plough the sea
looking for their
isle of slain
silence, the bedlam
of roistering stones
rocking them
in the delirium of a crying
and humiliated reason,
in the opaline mantle
of the night.
It roams the forest of
silent faults of being alive,
the creaky legs of a locust
heading towards the
nadir, the secret mystery
of the nest of humanity,
the tradition of life
that is constantly
passed down to
those who hold the fatal
whisper of the day
in their young ears.
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Erin Rizzato-Devlin Artist Statement:
Erin, forged by the land of Scots and Italians, and all the places stepped upon in between. Mastering the art of being a woman and writer, through anarchic verses that seek to dig an alcove amongst tender flesh and kind spirits.
