ILLUSTRATION BY LINDA COOK DEVONA
We work together side by side, sashaying deftly
in and out,
the bee tracing
his petaled prize while I probe leaves for mine.
He settles into golden dust,
my palm surrounds the swollen beans—as we pack
our pouches full.
This reminds me of the time I had a 90 foot row of pole beans to pick. I started picking my beans and a big bee collecting pollen started chasing me. It chased me all the way back to my door which was over 100 feet. That’s been over 30 years ago but I always like to make short rows in my beans in case I need to make a quick escape again.