I know-- I just realized that there
have been bees in two poems, and now there's
going to be bees again.
Sorry.
I've developed a new relationship with bees.
I used to be very afraid of them.
I'm apparently very allergic to them.
But I realized to go among the danger and be at ease
is maybe the way.
So now I like them.
But I've still yet to be stung, so we'll see what happens.
And this title, "If It Must Be Winter,"
is actually a line from a Linda Gregg poem.
Just to acknowledge that.
"If It Must Be Winter."
Not crowns.
Not conquest defined in terms of how many
fear you or fear to say otherwise.
Not by these will your own royalty, but in smaller ways.
How, to the least gesture, there's more power than it
seems reasonable.
Though it will feel deserved, so I was told,
and they have not proved wrong.
I've but to open my hand.
Bees come to it.
The slick fur of bees assembling as toward an honor in no way
expected.
Though each time, the honor remains mine,
as if almost it should.
As if certain privileges had to do with destiny.
Do I believe that?
Do I?
My hand a sea across which the wings of the bees
flash, like signal flags whose patterns, instead
of translating, I make up my own translations for.
I shall do as I please.
As a lovely argument can make a difficult truth
more clear, if not more sweet.
Though, is there not a sweetness to clarity that can almost
make the truth seem worth it?
To say I'm not quite sure makes me no less king here.
Sometimes I open my hand, and there's no sea at all.
Just a windy plain.
What appear to be dust storms crossing it turn out,
on reaching me, to be the disappointments.
All of them that I never intended,
each one on horseback.
My cavalry.
Each face raised toward mine, as if awaiting command.
Hungering for it.
Forgetful or stupid, I can see no difference.
Look away from me.
I haven't said you can look at me.
That's what you say to disappointment.
Look away.
It's like what you say to death.
Not today.
That's what you say.
I learned that on Game of Thrones.
That's what the sword master told Arya.
He did.
[INAUDIBLE]