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Nesting Instinct of Women (Free verse) by Dovina

Inside the hive a virgin worker lies bent head and folded wings sealed within her quiet cell until awakened from larval sleep by caress and beating of her sisters' wings She fears to leave behind the fixed prismatic form hesitates at the void of space the brilliant outdoor color and shrinks from loneliness of light Duty draws her from the nest wind twists her from the course but she knows she can return to familiar smell of honeycomb where her sisters work and others wait to be born

Dovina 15-May-05/7:31 AM
I must apologize for having instilled an enormous fear in you that I’m going to say something I’ve said before in one of our hundreds of discussions - so great a fear that you spend most of your commenting time grappling with it - for that has not been my intent. Our views have usually been so diametrically opposed that the illusion of repetition has been created, I believe, on both sides. But I think it’s been repetition of underlying positions rather, for the most part, more than repetition of statements.

I wish you saw more in the poem than bees. Without the title, I can see how you would think that, but with the title as it is, the poem can hardly be about bees, except as a metaphor.

I thank you for your third paragraph. There are two things I fear about myself. One is becoming a repetitive jerk. The other is the possibility of unconscious closedmindedness, which is more sinister than outright bigotry.




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