Dead bees greet me on the landing
Their bodies neatly preserved
Kick them out of the way
I have appointments to catch

Over time, the lifeless multiply
They must live somewhere close
A web in the porch light
Tells the tale of their demise

Workers out after dark
Head to the nearest bright light
Intoxified, they fall to gossamer’s death
(Back in the hive, the headline reads, Spider’s Gluttony Kills Ten)

Springtime, the church roofer cross the street
Found their hive, did them all in
(Headline: Victims of an Apparent Armageddon)

Midsummer, cross the landing
Fallen bees, dead again
The web remains, so does the hive
(New headline: Spider Revives Wanton Slaughter)

Walk past the church
Worker bees hard at work in the next drain north
Must build a fortress for their queen
Sweeten with honey, salvation at all costs