I bought a batch of hummingbird nectar that’s at the ready
now for the moment my—your—
first slender feeder arrives
in the mail. And yes, there will be others.
You can swing your hover-then-cleanse
while world-watching routine
from these chartreuse bushes
that burgeoned into trees
outside my kitchen. And there’s my office, too.
You don’t know that I hover near you
beyond this window-veil, yet it seems
the more I slow to watch you,
the more you stay here. Is this how one cares for the soul?
I do want to, and I want someone—something—
to care for and know me, some being
or such like the exotic unknown
that I can’t quite touch
#19 of 30 poems in 30 days for National Poetry Writing Month, April 2017
Image by John Livzey