The Little Bee

The little bee
crawled into the dim
welcome interior of the
blue bag

and found strange
things beside it -
on the journey cold,
it was thirsty, and
sleepy with the exterior
air - it thought of

hibernating,
but,

tipped out gently
hundreds of miles
from there, it had
hitched a ride across
boundaries, and
county lines,

to arrive in the city,
cold, hungry - 

it sipped gratefully
at a sudden gift
of sugar water
and contemplated
new air and a 
new smell - all

was strange - its home
200 miles away -
it had
no life here:

no way forward and
no way back

it clung to the stone
unmoving

when we opened the window again, gently,
it had gone

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