The Bee

THE BEE

the truth is that a bee flew in my window

and I didn’t notice it for three and a half years

when it began to look so pretty on my curtain,

made noise and gave me cause to recollect

that it’s not the first time I’ve been disappointed

and surely won’t be the last

but it’s a gift of mine: finding something where there’s nothing

it gave no quarter to my stare, little shiny thing

its several legs in unison moving.

what my heart deems lovely my eye makes ugly

and though it buzzed the way it ought

it sought flowers all its own

in gardens where I could never be

--aged augury, soft and watery,

its inability to acknowledge an observer,

a room that had no space for the two of us—

and still, a window I could never open

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/45/6b/20/456b209f9dcce1313c663981254a5d54--bees-insects.jpg