BRYAN CURT KOSTORS | The Abandoned Hive
170
portfolio_page-template-default,single,single-portfolio_page,postid-170,tribe-no-js,ajax_fade,page_not_loaded,,qode-title-hidden,qode-theme-ver-7.4,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-4.11.2.1,vc_responsive
ABOUT

THE ABANDONED HIVE

 

The Abandoned Hive is a three-movement setting of poetry by Michelle Brittan.

 

TEXT:

 

On Becoming a Statue

 

The house is no longer

a shelter. The air inside is the same

 

as the air outside. I have no use

for walls, only windows.

 

My breath turns

into moss, my eyes follow a leaf

 

 

pulling itself along the sidewalk.

Perhaps the wind will lead it

 

 

under the tire of a car.
Perhaps it will only absorb

 

the rain and the coming night.
I don’t believe

 

the leaf will settle below the arch
of my foot. I don’t believe

 

I’m a refuge to anyone.
I don’t notice the moment

 

the leaf is gone, because I’m trying
to remember the sun’s heat

 

I held in the stone
of my body. At night,

 

I’m the same color as the moon.

 

The Abandoned Hive

 

The bees are gone but the walls

in summer drip honey,

 

the abandoned hive

waking in heat. In a dream I hear

 

the drone, the plaster teaming,

and the floor beneath lifts into flight.

 

On Waking When You’re Already Leaving

 

The slide of the bolt and lock, fingers

snapped at the end of a spell – your body

 

walking to the car under the inscrutable

graffiti of the stars – invisible garland

 

of your green bar of soap still

hanging aromatic in the dim hallway

 

outside the shower – the steam retreating

to the mirror’s oval border, my face

 

appearing after yours in the cleared

center – the tiny light

 

on the coffee pot burning at the back

of the kitchen, a pinhole in the nights last

 

darkness – the pan you cooked eggs in,

the filigree of yellow along the edge

 

in a ring, lifted out whole like a crown.

Instrumentation

Solo soprano, soprano, alto, tenor, baritone, piano

This work is for
VOCAL