lost in translation

1 November 2012

treading water, i wait for her to jump

suspended between pontoon, sun rebounding blue

i find a bee, wings lashed to water’s surface

unable to fly or drown, happens to us all

soon marooned on my daughter’s foam board

damp forelegs forlornly towelling down

seems there are too many hot days and watery errands

in this place

overhead, the helitankers with their long tongues

i have pulled many bees from the indian ocean

one aesopic day, caught in traffic

they will come carry me high over the city

she jumps and the yellow board drifts

is retrieved by another swimmer

careful, a feathery kneed passenger

he hears watch out, there’s a bee

flips the board over and smiles, don’t worry i’m okay

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