A new poem by Auckland-raised poet Chloe Honum.

Elegy with Cannons and Bees

It rained all night and still is not over.
Nevertheless, the bees
drop themselves roughly

into autumn.
What happened?
Why did you have to go?

In Albert Park,
water arcs continuously
from cherubs’ horns.

Painted cannons
face the city.
I am no closer to knowing

and it will be twenty-one
years in July.
The light is tightening.

Nevertheless, all day
the bees glow
gold in the gloom,

working up and down
an ivy-covered brick wall,
as if trying to lift it.

Poetry editor Ashleigh Young welcomes submissions to The Friday Poem at thefridaypoem@gmail.com