“Beehive”
by
Jean Toomer
Within this black hive to-night
There swarm a million bees;
Bees passing in and out the moon,
Bees escaping out the moon,
Bees returning through the moon,
Silver bees intently buzzing,
Silver honey dripping from the swarm of bees
Earth is a waxen cell of the world comb,
And I, a drone,
Lying on my back,
Lipping honey,
Getting drunk with that silver honey,
Wish that I might fly out past the moon
And curl forever in some far-off farmyard flower.
Biblioklept 
Almost forgot about the class focused on the Harlem Renaissance I had. Everyone but myself and an older woman dropped; already a small course at night. Professor called off all further classes, corresponding via email the rest of the semester. One of the best classes I ever had. Nice to read Toomer, again.
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