Autumnal Gratitude

I am honored that the bumblebee chose

my garden as a place to die.

His fuzzy black and yellow body tucked

ever so softly in the lavender petals of my aster bush,

as if he was resting on his way to

the next flower, the next drop of sweetness.

This time of year saddens me, even as

the cool nights bring respite and

the rain makes the world lush

one last time before the frost

and cold turn us inward.

This single creature found enough beauty

in my yard to land just once more,

perhaps even to sit and lap up a last meal,

before moving to whatever end bees have.

His presence reminds me of the fragility

of our quotidian lives, the coming cold

of winter, and our constant—but not forever—

re-awakening every spring.