The bees line the rim of the birdbath
Slaking their thirst on hot days
Hot days that repeat with the monotony
Of our folly which seems endless
First they fly low over the water
Touching it briefly testing
To be sure it’s not a mirage
Roiling the surface like a small breeze
Sending tiny waves bouncing off the rim
Some drown in the water that catches their wings In its vice grip of death
The hotter the day, the more dead bees
Floating like little decomposing embryos
The bees drink up right next to the corpses
Unconcerned about the graveyard
that is their oasis
The water flecked with bits of feather
And bird droppings, still they come and drink
I play bee lifeguard offering my finger
As a lifesaving twig that they grab
Without gratitude or knowledge
Of the god who intervened in their death
The miracle only apparent to me
I rejoice at the life saved
And return inside to my
Filtered water and air conditioning
Bees drowning now unseen
Their prayers unanswered