by Luz Castaneda
Stargazing with Bees
I do not write about the swan
at the side of the road,
that was not really a swan.
I do not write about the seasons,
the harbouring of dead leaves,
or the erosion of bones –
the summer that has gone.
There is too much of time
that sleeps, with felled limbs,
lungs shaped from amber,
the bees deserted
long ago. I imagine the woods,
as I do not often step
into the crimson texture
of hibernal space.
I do not write how the sun
is perhaps more violent
than the gulf of night –
the way the dawn pours
into the morning,
I do not much care for.
Louise Mather is a poet from Northern England. You can find her on Twitter @lm2020uk and her work is published or forthcoming in magazines such as Fly on the Wall Press, Streetcake Magazine, The Cabinet of Heed, Versification, Crow & Cross Keys, Lanke Review and Dust Poetry Magazine. She writes about ancestry, rituals, endometriosis and mental health, and is editor of the cat-themed anthology Feline Utopia.
Luz Castaneda was born in Brazil to Brazilian and Spanish parents. Since 2014, she has been living and working as an artist in NYC. She is a self-taught artist, a biologist, Ph.D. in Genetics, educator and researcher in the sacred language of nature. Her research and artwork are a combination of her artistic soul and scientific mind. Her art has been exhibited in multiple galleries in the United States and Brazil. www.luzcastaneda.com.