Dithers and Bothers
As I was walking to the house, thinking of all the tasks
ahead of me and how prone I was to dawdle, I heard
a sound like a motor running or traffic on a distant highway.
If you could describe the sound of industry,
it was that: one-noted, yet harmonious.
This was the first warm day of spring.
The pale pink blossoms of the weeping cherry had opened
all at once, and all at once the bees winged in.
Each bee had her flower, each flower her bee.
There was gold enough for everyone.
None did quarrel as far as I could see.
They had the power to sting, but instead they worked.
The tree welcomed them like a hostess in a big hoop skirt.
In one day, the gold was gone, and the bees,
knowing time was honey, flew to newer flowers
while I buzzed about my dithers and bothers
for their perfume attracted me and their sameness too,
even as my song grew shorter and my hours.
*
Lynn Levin is a poet and writer. She lives in Bucks County, Pennsylvania and teaches English and creative writing at Drexel University. Her poems have appeared in Boulevard, Ploughshares, Smartish Pace, Plume, Rattle, on Garrison Keillor’s The Writer’s Almanac, and other places. Her most recent books are the short story collection House Parties (Spuyten Duyvil, 2023) and the poetry collection The Minor Virtues (Ragged Sky, 2020). Her website is lynnlevinpoet.com.
Such a pretty and relevant poem! Thank you!
This is a great poem about the arrival of new life and the renewal that spring brings with it.
What stood out for me is the following:
They had the power to sting, but instead they worked.
Wonderful poem!
Abraham