Summer Whisper

Yesterday, while I stood
knee-deep in meadow grass
to capture wild fleabane
and raspberries in bloom,
while a joyful bee dipped
and danced in front of me,
I almost missed the visitor
who came quickly down the path.
I think she thought I was
a flower — leftover perfumes from the day —
but stopped just shy of my pistil
when she realized I was not.
It took a while to focus
I felt her before I saw,
so close was she
I felt the breeze
of her magic little wings.
“Summer’s coming,”
the hummingbird whispered,
then floated off to
honeysuckle waiting
just nearby.

• • •

©2012, Jen Payne

14 Responses

  1. Swear to the Goddess you’re better now than Amy Lowell, and on your way toward Robert Frost! There were not only words but sounds I could hear, and sunlight I could feel, and the surprise of the bird made me smile with shock! I really love your work, and this year’s poetry is brilliant as diamonds. I love this one! Dale

  2. yes – summerier and summerier… but i have lovely clean clothes hanging outside on the line (instead of using the dryer) and they will dry quickly on this hot day! lots of weeds to pull – no hummingbirds yet!

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