CONUNDRUM

As a twiggy little boy of 9,

I was so curious

About the bumblebees hovering

Over blood-red roses, flesh-pink roses,

Bushes filled with pale-yellow honeysuckles

That grew in my Grandmother's yard.

 

So curious, when I reached out to touch one,

That bumblebee stung me with its

Needlelike tail, leaving behind a mark,

Swollen red, painful,

On the caramel brown of my arm.

Never touched another one since.

 

There were so many bumblebees back then.

Practically in swarms.

Every Spring, pollination time.

 

Now, I'm older, a man of 47,

Taller, darker-skinned, closer to chocolate than caramel.

Still twiggy though.

 

Another Spring has arrived & something's

Missing from the big ecological picture.

Absence leaves behind a mark 

A conundrum:

 

                              Where have all the bumblebees gone?

 

I hear different styles of music,

But no distinctive droning buzz fills my ears.

I see all manners of insect fly in the air,

But no visible sign of the little pollinators

Paying any visits to East Oakland's roses.

 

Extinction leaves behind a mark

A conundrum:

                         

                                Who will produce honey when the bumblebees are gone?

 

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W: 5.12.15

 

[ From the new book Elohi Unitsi: Poems [ 2013 - 2018 ],

  Conviction 2 Change Publishing, 2020. ]