B U M B L E R S

On a cold day, early in November, I noticed
a lone bumblebee clinging to an outdoor window
screen. It was barely moving. Being so cold, I 
knew that it would not bite me . . .  so I stroked 
its back ever so gently. Left alone, it tumbled to 
the ground in the perennial flower garden and
found a secure crevice near the house's foundation 
and disappeared.


                B U M B L E R S

In summer
      bumblebees
             skim through
                   bundles of blooms.

They gather
      sweet
             syrups.
      Load up
             packs fo
                   yellow dust.

Come late fall . . .
      a slowdown to
             survive.

Hibernate on through
      winter's
             sting.