A busy little garden maid
no bigger than my thumb.
Glides on wings of cellophane
with an incessant hum.
My garden's on her route.
she works here half a day.
grooming ruffled stamens--
packing pollen away.
An acrobatic aeronaut
her bearing set to a flower pot,
or a buttercup at another stop;
Perhaps an iris--perhaps not.
Harried is her work;
her presence always fleeting.
There is no need to stop for lunch
when your job is gleaning.

