Colony Collapse Disorder

This is one of my most recent poems. I've been writing this for a few months, and it has gone through several revisions. I am not quite sure whether it is finished or not. Let me know what you think.

The sickle is down from the pegs where it rested,

Winter weathers summer’s fall.

There is a frost upon the clover and the hive is empty –

There is a hairy spider watching from the corner of the wall.

 

The barn is wormy and cannot last the season.

The wood is turning to sand.

The paint is as brown and dull as it once was red and flawless-

The nails are pulling loose like rotten teeth from an old rotten man.

 

His eyes are dumb and black and do not move a mote

His mind is a funeral for flies.

There is a frost upon the thistle and the hive is empty

And an hairy eight-legg’d spider-thing

 

is watching with his witless eyes.

 

Black agriope’s web spun just so

To catch the busy workers as they come and go,

 

The silk bands, drawn tight the whole path over;

The bait: bright meadows, sweet with the scent of clover.

 

There is a shadow on the tassel and the hive is empty

The blossoms open and close but no fruit is borne.

 

What watchers will wonder when the colony is gone

At the tiny paper castles we have built to be destroyed;

 

There is now a spider that the bees cannot avoid.

 

Reviews

[Brett Campaigne]

This poem has several aspects of awesomeness. Its rhythmic exposition starts off visceral and catches your attention, images fly by with an almost a high resolution animated film quality, but when the lyrical flow strays off beyond the norm, you carry the more complicated rhythm excellently. Overall the scene you are imagining also has this deep implication inscribed entirely ambiguously upon the strict descriptive sense that you weave... you open doors with words for revelation-affect.

[superneutral]

good imagery, degradation and entropy. interesting subject matter. a solemn start. the hunter and hunted - death and beauty are a hard combination to mix - you have achieved this. the way the poem changes pace in the second half is highly effective and the last line the cherry on the cake. very good stuff, one of the best i have read on here. it is feral, almost and its flow is sweet and poisonous. excellent. - idont believe this needs any more work!

:)
super

[FoolsGold23]

hmmm, interesting, at first I thought it was about a barn collapsing, and now that I look again, in part, it could be, but the twist at the end with the big hairy spider element, I liked the turn.
Speaks of age and the futility of defying it, and of bees and how their oh-so-ordered existence is being snuffed out by things beyond their ken.
I know they've had a hard time existing around where I live, too much this n' that to function properly. Poor Bees, but a lovely poem to their unfortunate demise. Great work!