I spoke to the bees today.

It was the 68th day of lockdown, and hot.

There was little family news:

no births; thankfully no more deaths.

No departures of note, no long voyages.

I had settled by the campanula,

given that we do not have a hive,

and they seem to like the purple flowers as much as I.

There were one or two of the traditional recipients,

but mainly the smaller bumbles.

Buff-bottomed and bustling, they seemed indifferent.

Of course, we all have our own concerns.

Nonetheless, I felt they would not have signed any petitions to save us.

By Sarah Ziman



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