Bees

by Danann Kilburn

The sun rises; there is no rain.
I  look out at this gazed upon world,
And I am counting the bees again.

Do spiders return to the window pane
As they should after so many moons?
The sun rises; there is no rain.

I find no relief in the quiet old lane
Where I would find life (a dwindling count),
And I am counting the bees again.

The grass is yellow. Can I explain
To those who are content with ‘normal’?
The sun rises; there is no rain.

I need to tell you or I’ll go insane –
My throat is tight, my tears teem,
And I am counting the bees again.

So, on the walk home, how can I refrain?
I peer around for small signs of life.
The sun rises; there is no rain,
And I am counting the bees again.