The Bee and the Keychain

The Bee and the Keychain

It’s October in Switzerland.
Cold enough that bees shouldn’t still be flying.
I stop at the supermarket, get back on my motorbike
and a bee follows me.

At first I think it’s me she’s after.
Then I notice my keychain, bright and colorful,
swinging in the wind.
She thinks it’s a flower.

I watch her circle, desperate for nectar
that isn’t there.
She’s near the end of her short life,
still searching for something that will feed her.

And I think
we’re not so different.
We chase colors, screens, symbols,
things that shine but don’t nourish.
Like that bee,
we mistake the imitation for the real
and call it life.

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