Bee Poem by Laura Russell

A bee.
Why should I be afraid of a thing so little
as a bee?
Against my window it struggles for the freedom
of outside air, of sweetness
Of petals beneath it's laden legs.

Such an angry thing
and so tiny compared to me
in my flowered skirt and human skin,
I should rescue it. I will
Unless it should -

'Oh, it's escaped'.
Free in the heat, the waves of breeze
It rides air like a sea;
Up and down on weak currents.
A thing so small, so heavily armoured

with buzz and sting
With the power of pain
of death, of fear.
I should stripe myself black and yellow
Collect flower-sugar
and become a deadly thing.

I would understand if it were a tiger
or perhaps a giant zebra,
But not a bee.


21st June 2005