The Carpenter Bees

Carpenter bees roam 

the dandelions and 

purple-flowered weeds 

of my backyard, startled 

from their perch by 

the wheels of my mower.

They hover and flit, 

sometimes intertwined 

with others of their kind,

unable to stay aloft,

falling to the grass in pairs.

My five year old daughter 

sees that I am unafraid 

and walks into this spectacle 

of fuzzy helicopters and 

exclaims "they are so big!"

I remember them hovering 

near my father's barn

when I was a child, 

frozen in the air for a moment 

before moving on.  

It gave my little brain

the idea to get a  

handsaw to use like a bat.  

When they paused in flight 

to challenge my approach

I would swing the saw and 

hear the ping of their bodies 

meeting the flat side 

of the metal blade.  

I would track them down 

lying stunned in the grass, 

unable to fly or escape.  

I felt I was doing someone a service 

by smooshing them under my shoe, 

having outsmarted them with

my crude but effective weapon, 

for a moment feeling not-so-small,

releasing my rage, stinger-like.

***