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the drone and the widow
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clarifying poem
The Drone and the Widow
The hive demanded thunder, weight, and heat,
A golden drone with lightning in his feet.
But every pulse was programmed for the "sting,"
Until the web dissolved his every thing.
She is the widow, patient in the shade,
A "mechanical octopus" of silk and blade.
She does not fight the drone; she simply waits,
While his internal furnace suffocates.
One frantic buzz—a "suicidal" spark—
Then silence as the venom hits its mark.
He is sucked dry of agency and name,
A husk of chitin, emptied of his flame.
The task is done; "double jeopardy" won,
A hollow shell left cooling in the sun.
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