Bees, so many bees.

After twenty years of marriage, we walked out

of the bush and on to a rough dirt road

we followed till we saw a pond

we might be able to get to.

The ground was boggy and buzzing.

The pond was thick with weed

and slime. It was not

the sort of pond anyone would

swim in, but we did — picking and sliding

into the water over the bog and bees,

bees we suddenly noticed were

everywhere, were settling on our hair

as we swam, ducks turning surprised eyes

our way. After twenty years of marriage

what is surprising isn’t really so much

the person you are with but to find

yourselves so out of place in this scene, cold

but not able to get out without

stepping over bees, so many bees.