Requiem for a Bumblebee

Oh, bumble, was that you I saw ambling along with me in the early spring, surveying the garden's new green shoots for any emerging flowers?

Did I see you then, among the betony and the ajuga blooms taking early ownership of patches of misty blue spires?

And did I see you afterward, scrounging around in the several apple blossoms on my young tree; a fine effort which gave me two unexpected apples in it's first year here?

Was that you, almost fully grown, who grabbed onto my face one day and took an even tighter grip in order to advantage a nasty sting under my eye?

Were you one of the ones humming along with me in the morning dew to put each other at ease as I removed the covers from coveted plants protected from the nighttime deer raids?

Did I see you when the flowers were fading, clinging to bright red balls of sedum flowers alongside of every other bee still surviving?

Was that you I just saw sitting squarely in the middle of your favorite large marigold, clinging to the last of your life's work like a legacy?

I will look for you when the flowers return, imagining you (and I) young again; searching for another season in our garden together.