Bee Patrol
I swim slowly like an alligator
With just my eyes and snout above the water
A small perturbation
Ripples out from a bee
She miscalculated
can't lift off
and soon will drown
Wings and legs flailing
She swims in circles
I bring my hand up under her
a monstrous island
emerging from the sea
Rescued, she crawls
on the solid ground of my hand
I take her poolside
and gently dump her
on the coping
Wings glued to her body
she struggles forward, abdomen dragging
Leaving a small meander of water
She frees her abdomen from the water trail
And begins to groom
Six legs—all are employed
The first pair alternate and clean
antennae and eyes
The middle pair
stroke the thorax, drying the fine
hairs, unplastering the wings
The last pair
work the abdomen
scaling off the water
Finally, wings flex, whir
and she is gone
home
