By George

There is a bee in my head.
I do not know where it came from,
but the buzz is unmistakeable.
It is bouncing around angrily,
Gaining mass and velocity
As it flies.
It tears through my priorities,
Subsumes my schedule,
Ruins my day.

Pop!
The intruder crashes through my skull.
Cool air rushes to fill its place
— ice on the wound,
and the repairmen get to work.

All is quiet,
Bar the distant thrum of tools
Doing what they were designed to do.
“Someone better fix that hole.”
Easier thoughts retreat lazily
Into my body. My ears are filled with
Wind, and birds, and trees,
And the bee is out of sight –
Out of mind.