Carpenter bees that worry us at our door
by Ann Long
drip their excrement from holes they bore
in the trellis, mixed with the sawdust they
make, a paste that dries to the yellowed hue
of old photo albums. If I were to poison them,
we wouldn’t hunch and hurry our way across
the threshold. Our dog would stop snapping
at their wings. There’d be no need to explain
to guests they’re not likely to sting, but pollinate
like a house on fire. I have sprays considered safe
for humans, other animals and plants. I tried
a deterrent last year, just a spritz, aimed
at the holes. The mad vibrations buzzing
as they died are with me still. Their only
appreciable harm is nuisance. Late spring,
they’re done. The trellis became an island
of calm for two weeks, then home to a rat
snake who lay on top, mostly still, for ten
days as he worked his way out of his skin.
Ann Long grew up in western North Carolina and has lived in Warren County, Virginia for 24 years. They have worked as a labor/community organizer and grant writer, and they live with chronic illness due to TILT: Toxicant-Induced Loss of Tolerance. They recently completed their first poetry collection via the mentorship program at The Loft Literary Arts Center in Minneapolis, MN. They can be found on X @longlearyhouse.
