Two poems by Anja Konig
We are the Bees of the Invisible says Rilke, of poets (I think). I thought I could never be a bee: all that peer pressure, the hum and hustle of the hive. Who can relax when the next bee is doing her urgent dance? But the bees of the invisible live wild, solitary lives – in bee hotels in botanical gardens, in hollow reeds, … Continue reading Two poems by Anja Konig