Worker Bee
You have been here a month
lying on your back, unburied--
legs raised skyward
legs raised skyward
blackened, mummified
fallen, mid-flight, wings intact
upon a shroud—a faded yellow
tablecloth. Smothered by imitation
upon a shroud—a faded yellow
tablecloth. Smothered by imitation
blackened eyed susans
on the raised platform
of the deck, hidden from the sky
under the protection of the overhang
your divine purpose
a single drop of honey,
your entire life’s worka single drop of honey,
crystallized beside you
fossilized to amber gold
gleaming in the sunlight
