Yes, that’s a blue-banded bee
making a burrow in the knuckle
of yellow sand that’s been there almost a decade,
left over from house-building, set as rock.
This native bee is a solitary, but building
with an openness to other mothers-to-be
as neighbours—birthing rooms and cribs,
best address tenements, apartment block:
communal yet separate, a socialist utopia?
Quick in, quick out, to carve comfort
or security. And out and about, its feeding
zone—one in which pockets of pollen
are held back, kept in stock, selectively
available to those who can unlock
their puzzle boxes. Such vigorous,
vibrant winging in proximity, such grip,
such body action intense and stimulating;
this mutual aid of ‘buzz pollination’
so many voyeurs rave on about. At home
now—nesting, digesting, laying.
John Kinsella’s recent books of poetry include Graphology Poems: 1995–2015 (Five Islands Press, 2016), On the Outskirts (UQP, 2017) and Renga: 100 Poems (with Paul Kane; GloriaSMH Press) . His new book of stories is Old Growth (Transit Lounge, 2017). He is a Fellow of Churchill College, Cambridge University, and Professor of Literature and Environment at Curtin University.
