The Worker Poem by John Myshkoff
The Worker
As summer days fade
Imperceptibly at first,
I walk through blossoming clover,
Wondering will they return
Before another summer ends?
Even elusive hummingbirds
Make a rare appearance
Now and then.
I stand amidst their favorite fare,
Where have they gone?
Then, in that demarcation
Between sun and shadow,
A solitary bumblebee
Intent on his task
Ignores me,
And gathers pollen.
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5/5/2024 11:19:38 PM # 1.0.0.1119
