Bee 2 was dear friends to Bee 1 that short summer.
They worked well together and made their work funner.
They spent their best days buzzing so closely over,
a flowering field of delicious green clover.
The sweet golden nectar that they were collecting
was their foremost duty while queen bee protecting.
In fun competition, sought who could be faster,
ignoring completely potential disaster.
For, far in the distance, they both were ignoring,
a big red machine that had made a loud roaring.
It leveled so quickly the clover and grasses,
but never once hit them on back and forth passes.
Yes, they noticed it passing, but paid it no heed -
and then were run over... with the good and the weed.
Bee 1 hurt so bad it put 2 in depression.
Did both bees survive it? Now that was the question.
Though neither had noticed when that mower arrived,
Bee 1 didn't made it - while Bee 2 had survived.
It seems so unfair that disaster was lurking,
though both were so faithful and both were still working,
Bee 2 was so sad he cried teardrops of honey.
He thought God unfair! All his days now not sunny.
We run life's race fast but, out of reach, that baton,
so how can we live when our best friend has passed on?
Is God so unfair when our work here is over?
Well, not to Bee 1 there in Heaven's sweet clover...
This poem was a finalist in the January 2020 poetry contest