Bee sits on the wall with wiry legs, gripping
little metallic hooks dig into mortar

like a mountaineer, paralysing fear of flying
free, with the other bees

keeps her perfectly still, while
beads of sweat sit between the hairs on her body

this bee knows: leave the wall for even a minute
anything can happen in an instant

bird shrieks pierce
	light blinds
		everything’s going on
	sensory gating, in her mind
the wiring’s gone wrong

the chaffinch warns of a stran-ger
but the warm brick feels safe

so bee sits on the wall, belly pressed
to surface, ignoring the chafe.

The first proper poem I ever wrote.

6 thoughts on “Yellow-belly”

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