©2022-2025 Denis Naylor
Oh how I wish . . .
When I saw the hummingbird
Wings an invisible whir
Feeding in a calm frenzy
Ever so quickly taking
What my offering gives . . .
I wanted so to have it
Gently land
On my welcome finger
Look into my
Longing eyes
Hear it hum
For me alone . . .
“Fly away with me.”
I wished but
It was not my time
And so I am still just here
Waiting until . . .
It must me nice eating here
Top step, my front porch
Not back yard
Where you belong.
Cracking my acorns
Eating your fill leisurely
As if you reserved a table.
Who knows?
I never see you dining
Maybe you alone
Maybe in a party
I wish I knew.
I was annoyed
Brooming away the leftovers
Finding it considered a service
With no tip.
Oh well,
You don’t care about me
One bit and why should you?
The dark season is coming.
All summer is just a waiting
For fall to drop the acorns
Hunger a season away
Never mind.
Today is a good warm day
Getting shorter
Enjoyably long enough
A table with a view
Plenty of present nuts
And me to sweep
Cares of tomorrow
Into yesterday.
Corn Crib 