rescue

“We must save him,”

my daughter cries

and points down to reveal

a pudgy bumble bee

nestled in the tall grass

weakened from servitude

orange pollen speckling

its fluffy amber coat

my son sprints back

to the house to retrieve

the simple elixir

and the girl stands guard

serious in her station

when he returns

some sugar and water

is humbly offered

served in a tablespoon

with wide-eyed reverence

we form a protective circle

on the ground

and wait

observing patiently

as our ward revives

hums a hymn of thanks

and then

flies