Hummingbird
~Robin
Becker
I love the
whir of the creature come
to visit the
pink
flowers in
the hanging basket as she does
most August
mornings, hours away
from
starvation to store
enough
energy to survive overnight.
The Aztecs
saw the refraction
of incident
light on wings
as
resurrection of fallen warriors.
In autumn,
when daylight decreases
they double
their body weight to survive
the flight
across the Gulf of Mexico.
On
next-to-nothing my mother
flew for 85
years; after her death
she hovered,
a bird of bones and air.
Copyright ©
2017 Robin Becker. Used with permission of the author.
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