Poem beginning with a line from Norman Dubie
In the near field, an idle, stylish horse raised one leg
and brought it down, with some force, onto the ground.
The ground was hard that day, from hours drying in the sun,
and the tremor made a dull noise that roused the sparkling bees
from the daisies they had been feasting on nearby.
And because they were roused from their small-scale feast
we were sorry for them and remembered how hard it must be
for a bee in this world we are creating for everything
with our concrete, our chemicals, our countless untold wonders
of technology. And because, all of a sudden, we were worried
our own food lost its appeal and we left it resting, while we thought,
on the spotty blanket where we sat. And it was sweet and so a wasp came by
getting high on sugar, grooving its stripy legs to music
only the nearby molecules could hear. In the next field
the idle, stylish horse had stopped stamping and was eating its hay again.
The bees had settled and we went back to our cake, waving the wasp away.