Only subscribers may read this in its entirety. What follows is a free preview, truncated midway through.

It’s not the bees but the shadows of the bees
arcing over the surface of a field.

Down, then over. Up, and then across.
Their bodies skimming along the weedy surface

like thoughts. Or like a mass of thoughtless shapes
moving, only moving, and not meaning,

the bees’ quick bodies and the bodies’ shades
bullet-shaped, but much too soft

to be bullets, much too gentle, visibly
flitting over green pennants of grass.

If you liked this, see. . .

• “from Quarantine,” by Brian Henry, Winter 2005
• “Bright Sunlight,” by Nathan Whiting, Summer 2001
• “What Brought the Helicopter Down,” by Kirk Robinson, Autumn 1999
• “Song: Vox,” by John Bricuth, Autumn 1982
• “The Empty House,” by Marjorie Agosí­n, Fall 2007