By Renee Emerson

Caught in a bee’s humming
investigation, my daughter
runs to me, trembling
at the threat of pain
she has never felt.

I offer adult explanations,
a permission slip for stingers—
pollination, environmental
concerns—how I get stung,
barefoot and careless,
just about every year.

But they are dying out wins.
Good, she says. Let them die.

Ok, let the world be a wing-beat less
dangerous. But I’d miss
those yellow striped buzzers
hovering over all this beauty
gathering up what they can hold.

Guest poetry written by Renee Emerson. Renee is the author of the poetry collections Keeping Me Still (Winter Goose Publishing 2014), Threshing Floor (Jacar Press 2016), and Church Ladies (Fernwood Press 2023). She is also the author of the chapbook The Commonplace Misfortunes of Everyday Plants (Belle Point Press), and the middle grade novel Why Silas Miller Must Learn to Ride a Bike (Wintergoose Publishing 2022). She lives in the Midwest with her husband and children.

Photo by Jennifer Floyd.