Bear seasons

They are not pests
their delicate wings slice through the air
as their lanky legs dangle behind
invited by the flowers
she tends to her harvest,
she carefully lands on the soft petals,
peeking in the bud to seek the pollen
She treats them as her children
and returns with her gathering of honey
sharing it with her family.

She is a warrior
her shining armour plates her body
she protects her colony,
until her hast breath.

Her hard labor feeds the hungry people of the world,
but her grace disintegrates
the pesticides bites away at her colony
until it is nothing.
They are the bees.






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