Steve Kronen

Bee Line
October 24, 2021 Kronen Steve

Bee Line


Maybe the crow flies
straight between here and there, but the bee
does not. What else have we
mis-named? father, mother? rock? tree? Perhaps, two snowflakes
falling, one on East Germany, the other
on West, a hundred yards
apart, were identical. You could watch the one,
easy as a dream, wafting
to just below the Wall’s
jagged surface. Head
over heels? Of course, it is,
all the livelong
day, until, at last, long after the sun has set,
you lie down to tally up
all that’s befallen you, all that’s befallen those
you love. Maybe, one you loved said years ago,
belie,” and you, again,
misheard it, misread
A racket persists
outside your window, though the shades are drawn
against the moon, that you may now,
like the many generations
before you, sleep, as they say,
like a baby.

Steve Kronen‘s most recent and forthcoming work is in Image, On the Seawall, upstreet, Hampden-Sydney Poetry Review, and One Hand Clapping (UK). The poem in this issue is from a new manuscript, Gimme That – Don’t Smite Me: New and Selected Poems. His collections are Homage to Mistress Oppenheimer (Eyewear), Splendor (BOA), and Empirical Evidence (U of Georgia). Kronen is the recipient of an NEA, Bread Loaf and Sewanee Writers’ Conferences fellowships, and three Florida Arts fellowships. His website is