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Pamela Starr lives in
Pamela Starr
No way to save them,
the beekeeper said.
They had settled
inside the wall.
They were building
their hive.
He drilled holes in the basement
dry wall and ceiling,
inserted a syringe,
and sprayed the
powder.
The poison worked
quickly.
The buzzing stopped.
Dead bees
darkened the basement
floor.
We vacuumed them up,
threw them out
with the trash.
But we still see them
fifteen years later,
dead bodies falling
from the holes
we haven’t plugged yet.