Hummer flies sharp – off at an angle, vertical ascent, straight descent,
stops, perches and flashes a crimson challenge that pulses emergency,
twists head side to side searching for intruders.
Backwards he flies and hovers there,
here and gone is the nature of things.
Here and gone is the nature of things.
Zip to pink-purple fuchsia in a hanging pot,
zap to drink nectar with an uncurled tongue long as a straw.
He sips the presence of now in the flower,
then backwards flies, hovers and savors there.