A Wayward Bumblebee
Zachary Levin

I search my jar of open cherry jam
To find a bee. In greed, he must’ve stole
Into its crimson-colored depths.

The jelly liquor coating golden fur,
A binding chain; translucent, fragile wings
Defiled by heavy, saccharine paste.

Now slaked his thirst, the bee attempts escape
In vain. Oh no! A cherry coffin, fruit
Once pollinated by his kin.

The artificial sweetener satisfies
His hungry belly’s need, but sweet-perfumed
Red acid burns — dissolving captured flesh.

Thus heedlessly he drank, and thereby heedlessly he dies;
Alone and drunk on promises of pollen, sugar, life.