The Hummingbirds are back

Hummingbird

A battered hummingbird rests
in the cup of my hand
ruby throat green wings
tremble in fading light

The guilty calico
winds her way round
my legs mewing
the treasure swiped
from thin air as she hid
among geraniums


I wish to bring back this tiny jewel
watch in wonder as it darts
from bloom to bloom
sipping floral nectar
listen to the whirr
of wings as I fill bottles
with sugar syrup

At night I dream of sirens
flames flashes of blue
red reflecting on the river
moon stars tumble
toward dawn hummingbirds
by the hundreds
beckon my spirit away

jzr


The hummingbirds have returned along with an endless list of other birds who nest nearby. I argue with myself about putting the feeders out again this year. My two latest rescues salivate and tremble as they watch from the window. Little Lilliput, not so little anymore, goes outside now, brings gifts of deceased voles and once a still fluttering male goldfinch. All I can do is turn my back and walk away, trying to send thoughts to her that these are not gifts in my eyes. If I try to keep her in she bounces off the walls, goes about knocking things off tables and shelves to show her dissaproval. Now Peppermint joins her for brief outings. I'm carefully trying to place all the feeders in open places where the cats cannot hide beneath them. And when I see one of the offenders slinking toward a ground feeding bird, I bang on the window or run outside shouting profanities at the startled cats, who then quietly slink away, mumbling about my trying to play God again.