Reverberations

Singing bowl’s song, a low roll,
thunder moving center
pulsates through my palm,
leaps synapses like stones.
By the Stillwater River
three pounds of bees
a marked Italian queen—
whole hive vibrating
while a hummingbird whirrs
against barn window glass
trapped; wings flail, sound
of hail falling
and my heartbeat, how
it shudders against
white cave of bone.