The biography of the bee
is written in honey
and is drawing
to a close.

Soon the buzzing
plainchant of summer
will be silenced
for good;

the flowers, unkindled
will blaze
one last time
and go out.

And the boy nursing
his stung ankle this morning
will look back
at his brief tears

with something
like regret,
remembering the amber
taste of honey.

Poem copyright ©2002 by Linda Pastan,“The Death of the Bee,” from If Bees Are Few: A Hive of Bee Poems, Ed., James P. Lenfestey, (Univ. of Minnesota Press, 2016).  Originally published in Last Uncle,(W. W. Norton & Co., 2002).