about hummingbirds and night wind

M. E. Csamer

small winged creature
moving
at the speed of desire:    that much wanting
and so little flesh to hold it.

he comes at the beckoning
of flowers planted to attract his mystery
consolidation of heat & power               a heart
unleashed in air.

how would he sleep?
and yet                     last night
            in the wind
somewhere       he was nesting

waiting to appear       embroider a day
from the same cloth: that wind
last night            removing all tiresome bugs

leaving only       fireflies in the grass       miniscule green storms

beside my fingers          or maybe spears
the stars threw down.

Poem 1 | Poem 2 | Poem 3 | Poem 4 | Poem 5 | Poem 6

M.E. Csamer's works copyright © to the author.