Struggle-crawl

I saw a bee crawling along the floor
And sat, legs folded to watch it’s passing
It seemed to struggle with the wind, clinging to the floor as to not be blown away
I wondered why it did not fly
Indeed it was this wondering abnormality that ensnared me in the first place
It continued its strugglecrawl, me enraptured, for some distance until it encountered what seemed to be a heavily decayed carcass of another bee
There it stopped and turned around
After such an effort, I felt as though the work has been wasted
I guess to the bee there was no work, no effort
But to me it seemed an awful shame