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.