bumblebee

An anxious companion called to me,
As I was sitting out in the yard,
That a bee had
Settled on my leg.
 
So be it.
 
Bees will usually,
Quickly fly,
When they realise they
Are not on a flower.
 
This one did not.
 
So, I assumed that there
Was something wrong
With the bee.
 
It was not just languid from the heat
‘Cause it wasn’t that hot.
 
The longer the bee stayed,
The more concerned I became.
 
Not really knowing
The ins and outs of bees
Heading for their demise.
 
Except, that they usually fall
In Service
While heading toward,
Or away,
From their hive.
 
I thought a languid/dying bee
Might take some sort of affront,
Or take one last stand
At life,
And make a defensive move
Of stinging whatever
Was nearest it.
 
So I kicked out
My leg.
 
The bee moved through
A gentle arc,
Caused by my propulsion,
And its own feeble
Attempt at flight.
 
It landed in the taller grass
On the verge of the lawn,
And,
I suspect,
It did not
Move again.
 
D.E. BA U.E.
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