Bones

Michael Reeks

You told me how in summer
you would sit in that mint patch 
that sprang up in the barren dirt 
yard behind your building

When it bloomed you said
it was like a riot; silence exploding
into buzzing chaos, a chorus of bee 
and wasp and fly, frenetically dancing

So in the fall when the dance ended
it felt like a friend had died
and you sat back there basking only
in stillness, grieving the quiet

And so you left the dead mint
like a cathedral of skeleton branches and rotting leaves
weedy and tangled and ugly (you hoped)
to remind you how the world once came alive around you

You learned then that your choir only slept
burrowing into summer's bones, to hide from winter
and would have stayed quiet forever 
had you not wanted to mourn them.

The Science

This poem is inspired by the overwintering habits of various flying insects, particularly carpenter bees and cavity-nesting solitary wasps. These insects frequently burrow into the dead stems of woody perennials in late fall and lay their eggs in chambers together with some food. In the spring, the eggs hatch, eat the food, and dig their way out. For this reason, it is essential to leave dead stems (often referred to as bones) in the garden overwinter, waiting to clear them out until the first warm week of spring.

The Poet

Michael Reeks (he/him) is a daydreaming data scientist who lives in rural Pennsylvania. He builds models during the day and cultivates a wild but insect-friendly garden when he can. You can find more of his work at michaelreeks.com.

Next poem: Bug a-bed by Sravya Darbhamulla