Being Humble

Spring's first bee bumbled in to find me
over open window sash and blind,
once found, buzzed round and round, behind me.

The blind upwound,
I guided him, or her, with gentle diction, gender free
addressing it as "buddy," friendly:
"fly to the glass, your aim — squeeze past
the slight restriction of the frame."

A few attempts, and out it dropped and droned,
waggled wings expressing thanks and banking right
it flew, impossibly, beyond my sight.