Descent of the Bumblebee

A little poem formed yesterday. As autumn becomes more pronounced, I think of that sweet melancholy often associated with this time of year.

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,

and you,

full of lavender and light,

lifting yourself off

towards that next season.