How Bees and Drones Team Up to Find Mines

Fools add knots to the nets of the world.
Call us fools, and call all our toil knots.

You will not find us at home or out
In the woods, but you might spot a heap

Of bones, scraps on the side of the road.
Watch where you step then. You would not want

To meet our end. We were trained to love
The scent of the bombs, to link that smell

With the taste of sweet. Then we were sent
Out to hunt for what could not be seen.

Sky eyes trailed us, and when we found mines
And fed, the spot was marked to be burst.

And if we burst too, then? There’ll be more
Of us, more and more, all trained in lust.