The bumblebees danced their way

through the semi-alien landscape

of a town far from the pollen collecting

sites near their own loving hive and wondered

aloud in their own dramatic buzz-like,

black and yellow single stripe fashion

just how they had gotten so far-flung

in their quest.

 

There was no predator wasp of Time

to serve and yet Time still had mastery over their

flight path through the city streets

and in the male, Time preyed heavily,

Time had lost its charm

and a younger bee noticed

the distress and disorientation

and wept for these two out of town strangers.

 

The bees are too few in number now

for help to be offered in great quantity,

not swollen by swarm and able to defend

the master bee as the pollen collecting duty

becomes a chore

and like the young bee I observe watching them,

keeping his distance lest he cause offence,

I too weep, for the older bee will not ask for help.

 

Ian D. Hall 2015