Pride of Ownership

I was just out to look at the hives

from a suitable distance after supper;

one bee comes right over and attacks me

and stings me; does herself mortal damage.

On my wrist-my hand swelled

till it was like a blown-up rubber glove

and hurt, got into everything I did,

reading, fighting off sleep, talking to Jeanne.

Two days it was tight and hot,

then itchy; I can still feel it.

I shall take off that honeycomb

with gauntlet, veil and smoke, the full armour.