Non-Erotic PoetryWatch out for bumble beesWatch out for bumble bees
When I was little
I ignored bumble bees.
I watched daisies
and dandelions
and avoided wasps
as they waited on yellow,
poised to puncture
the foot of a supposed
predator. Now
it's the mumbling,
bumbling of fat bees
that I survey hovering
around the lavender,
hung drunkenly in mid-air
looking as if at any moment
their girth will thicken
and send them hurtling
to the ground
at my feet.
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