Descent of the Bumblebee
Late slant of autumn sunlight
catches you browsing the last summer flavors.
Striped plush on banded armor,
your finely-tuned hoverings maneuver between goldenrod,
prairie jewel and the meager remains of Veronica.
Still robust and agile, your weight bows down each bloom.
Soon, I will find you, some cool, near-frost morning,
nestled in the petals of your final gathering place,
close to deep slumber but not quite,
perhaps already in Dreamtime.
And I will mourn your descent as much as any living thing.
But for now let me dwell on this warm moment,
full of lavender and light,
lifting yourself off
towards that next season.