I wore the war on my hands (April 2025)

 

The early bumble bee has a lifespan of twenty-eight days.

Twenty eight days spent on window sills, bathing in refracted light

Twenty eight days lingering on the bird feeder circling the bluejays while they feast

Twenty eight days peony petal clad, tulip covered, foxglove smothered, lavender lovers

The early bumble bee lives his whole life in the spring, and never knows the uneasy cruelty of November 

The early bumble bee scathed me in my adolescence, barefoot and vulnerable on pavement, prone to being plucked, prodded or poked 

The vulnerable hurt the vulnerable 

I’d swat them onto the sidewalk, without mindfulness or mercy 

I wore the war on my hands, along with yellow yolk chalk stains, an under developed brain, an indifference to the soft creature’s pain.

Early bumble bees hardly ever sting 

Unless they are defending themselves that is.

Something I never even gave the bee a chance to do

The early bumble bee has a lifespan of twenty-eight days.

I have been alive for 7,799.

and on the 7800th day of my life

I will learn mercy.

peony petal clad, tulip covered, foxglove smothered, lavender lover mercy.

We are less important than bees.