Hummingbirds are gone
morning doves wait in the wings
gratitude for friends
Tag Archives: hummingbirds
Haiku for a Saturday
Early air is still
three hummingbirds are swooping
rain will seed the clouds
Haiku for a Tuesday morning
Always last to leave
she perches drinking her fill
many miles to fly
Haiku for a sunny Tuesday
he darts in and sips
she drinks at rest savoring
I welcome them back
Haiku for a Saturday afternoon
Dog rests on my foot
Gray rain and cooling to fall
Hummers are still here
Seeing them off
Today they are still here,
and I am too, in late September.
My hummingbird pair. One darts in
to feed, the other perches
drinking deeply, tipping her head back
to let the nectar slide.
I feel that energy sweet and cool
down my throat.
Their absence looms, a large bell
with muffled clappers tolling
unopposed, reddening the trees,
exiling light, ushering in cold.
Lately the question, will they
visit me again, or will there be
someone else looking out my window
twelve months on?
Each year it is harder let them go,
as if there were a choice.
long shadow morning
the day starts clear
and weather sits the fence
undecided voter between
sultry and first frost
the hummingbirds have gone
and small flocks pulse
from ground to tree to air
some landing in the shelter
of my apple tree
across the road bright reds
appear to punctuate
short timer green
the usual pangs are there
as warmth and light
begin to turn away
but less robust somehow
each summer moment’s heat
soaked into bone and soul
defense against regret
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for me seasonal change has always been about being observant, and the aggregation of small events. september has a clear, long slanting light. my favorite month.
Life With Horace 