Peril Sonnet

Where do you suppose they’ve gone the bees now that you don’t see them anymore four-winged among flowers     low sparks in the clover even at nightfall are they fanning have they gone another place blued with pollen stuck to their bristles waiting beyond us springdwindle is what we call it collapsing neonicotinoids “high levels in pneu- matic corn exhaust” loss of habitat or disappearing disease in the way of our kind      so to speak what do you think they would call it language older than our ears were they saying it all along even at daybreak —