Companion
A hummy buzz draws me from my book
to watch a bee among the flowering grass.
Rolling from lounge chair to the ground
I find myself looking through a forest
of blossoms, trying a bee’s eye view.
The bee roams and I follow, taking in whole flowers
at a glance. His eyes are focused to find
each tiny sun-warmed source
his sense of smell detects. We are different
parts of the same world and, as we wander
in our different ways, I wonder
if he is as conscious of my presence as I am of his.
Until, in patches of crushed clover, I realize
I have rolled over
and destroyed a morning’s supply of food.
***
Ann Elizabeth Carson is a poet, writer, sculptor, feminist, one of ‘Toronto’s Mille Femmes’ (2008 Luminato Festival). Published: Shadows Light, The Risks of Remembrance, My Grandmother’s Hair. Ann reads at multi-media events, leads arts workshops, belongs to Old Town ARTbeat, Ontario Poetry Society, Tower Poetry Society, League of Canadian Poets.
LCP National Poetry Month Blog 2011 