The World According to Poetry #3
Bee Elegy
By Stephanie Wood Miller © 2019
On the hot concrete I see him turning
Disoriented, lost to his hive
I stay my instinct to crush him carelessly under my heel
To shorten his already short life
I watch as he surrenders, slows
And last finding inactivity at the end of his full life
I dig him a tiny hole
With my index finger
I place him gently in a loamy bed
And arrange a sprig of alyssum on his grave
Farewell, good bee
You worked hard, always
Bringing life to life
Valiant servant of your queen
Willing to sting and die for her
We both mourn your loss
And die a little bit with you