A small pile of sawdust
Left for me on the bricks below
The hole in the tree
A big black bumblebee
Has carved to fit
Where it can nest
But I'm the one
Bumbling about the yard
Sweeping it up
Watching it return
So loaded with pollen
From working all day
In its gardens of glory
Leaving me embarrassed
Sweeping the dust
With nothing to say
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