There was this bee
Kept flying in my window
I trapped it between the panes
To admire its form and
I shooed and cooed it outside.

It came back.  It buzzed 
Around my face; I don't
know what it smelled 
I tried to stay still 
And not be a threat 

But then I moved.
It buzzed out the window
And then it came back
Again the bee came back,  

So, and feeling entirely 
practical about it,
I left my room.