Weightless Hitchhiker

Have you carried a heavy burden,
a bucket away from a flooded basement or
a bucket towards a grass fire?
I’ve carried light to heavy weight,
union card and jackhammer,
groceries for seniors, piggyback girlfriends.

Everyone’s borne the kind of weight
that can be weighed using a scale.
But consider the weightless, a tune carried,
measles hosted then evicted.
The body may seem victorious
but can carry regret, unspoken, to the grave.

I gave a ride today to the near-weightless
hitchhiker—a honeybee—landing
seeking some dew, some salt in the sweat
in the worry lines of my brow.
I was stung for a moment by some
nameless fear, but quickly brushed it aside.

Dave Seter is a poet and essayist. He is the author of Don’t Sing to Me of Electric Fences (Cherry Grove Collections, 2021) and Night Duty (Main Street Rag, 2010). Educated as a civil engineer, he writes about social and environmental issues, including the intersection of the built world and natural world. On Instagram: @daveseter_ecopoet       
More at: https://daveseter.com/