OUR PLAN FOR BEES

Clouds tumbling in the wide glass picture window framed in fruit gilt & the bar mirror in front of us, slow, blown breath of the day going by, horizon of bottles, Scotch & Pernod & high-rise of gin, the afternoon a pilsner of summer snow climbing the updraft between glass buildings, small bubbles rising into the underlit, the lowered dark, dusk the amber pall of whiskeys neat & faint conversation of bees he had heard