OF BOYS AND BEES

by: Mika Tubinshlak in Poetry

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Mika Tubinshlak

         It was a watermelon afternoon.

         A thunderstorm had come and gone,

         And now the sky was blue again.

         Tommy and I were sprawling on the grass.

         The garden was abuzz with bees,

         Drunk on the nectar and the sun.

         One zoomed too close,

         And Tommy swatted it away.

         “I hate these stupid bees!” I heard him say.

         I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And why is that?”

         “Because they sting and hurt us! Bees are bad!”

         “It’s true,” I said, “they could be quite annoying.

         But actually they aren’t bad or good.

         They are important, though.

         See how they fly from tree to tree?

         Well, what they do is carry pollen

         That turns the flowers into fruit.

         And what about the honey?

         You do like honey?”

         Tommy nodded. “Yes.

         But we are more important than the bees!

         We make the trees!”

         I smiled. “Well, not exactly.

         Only a tree can make another tree.”

         He frowned, and so I quickly added,

         “But we can help the trees. By planting seeds.”

Tommy perked up.

“But only trees can make the seeds,” I said.

He hung his head – then brightened up again.

“But we are more important than the trees!

We water them. Without us, the trees will die.”

“Yeah, well,” said I.

“The trees are mostly watered by the rain.”

“Oh,” Tommy said.

“Still, we can help,” I thought it best to add.

“By watering the trees when there’s no rain.”

He shrugged.        

I should have let it go at that.

But now I was well into the subject:

“See, if there were no people in the world,

The rain would still keep falling.

The flowers and the trees would still keep growing.

The bees would keep on spreading their pollen.

Nature can manage very well without us.

All we can do is keep out of its way.

And maybe help from time to time…”

I stopped.

I thought that summed it up quite nicely.

But when the silence grew too long,

I turned to look at Tommy.

He was crying.

I moved a little closer.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Well…” Tommy sniffled, “well, who needs us then?

What are we here for?”

This time I chose my words before I spoke:

“You know what I think?

I think we’re here for one another.

That’s right. We need each other, don’t we?

To help each other grow, to love each other,

To keep each other company… You know?

Us human beans, we‘ve got to stick together. OK?”

I put an arm around his shoulder. “OK?”

He shrugged.

“OK,” he finally said.

I took a breath and looked around the garden.

The trees were still.

The bees had gone somewhere.

A sudden chill was in the twilight air,

And shadows where none had been before.

We sat in silence for a little while…

“Who wants some cookies?”

Tommy looked up at me, eyes open wide.

“Some milk and chocolate cookies, anyone?”

“I’m coming, mom!” he hollered, sprinting for the house.

“Hey, wait for me!” I cried.

But he was gone.

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