Missing humble bees mean cats on the prowl in bearded Darwin’s stretched out explanation. It is that cats are fond not of bees but of mice. A woman there with bees in left leg poly-cast has less to do of phone -selling and more with less poems in the ante-room of ageing darkness.
We are humbled by bees ,in leg or elsewhere. Some times we have them tingling in our sitting. They crawl our lone undersides, making us humble because clovers live and die with humble bees with no implied moral of biblical humbleness.
On the dark nights we look up the sky to find our missing ancestors, so many of them crawling. We lose count and we are soon blood letting from our left foot of too many bees crawling as if they are the stars we have lost count of.