untitled
by: brice maiurro

the trees will speak if you will listen,
and if the trees don’t speak,
they are listening, you are listening,
all silences are loudly speaking.

 

 

The Gift
by: Stephen D. Gibson
photograph by author

A red-haired woman brought honey to our door. It was in a canning jar. “Your friends bought it from my stand. Roadside,” she said. We had seen her there last time the four of us had dinner together, so we took the jar.

Her yard must be full of hives. Those white boxes. A white, wide-brimmed hat and mesh. The honey sloshes very slowly inside of the jar. We set it in the center of our kitchen table; honey brought to us by friends, the beekeeper, a thousand bees, and half a million flowers.

It is, as they say, golden.

–

brice maiurro is a poet and storyteller from lakewood, colorado. he is the author of four books of poetry, including the heart is an undertaker bee. you can find him on instagram at @maiurro.

Stephen D. Gibson’s fiction has appeared in Western Humanities Review, The Citron Review, Vestal Review, 100 Word Story and has been nominated for Pushcart and Best Microfiction prizes. Visit stephendgibson.com for more of his work.