I rather like this memory, written while watching a Hermit hummingbird in Panama on a live cam.
Jungles are dark, mostly anyway
The sunshine eaten by canopies
Far above the floor ruled by ants
Dark until a falling tree rips free the light
I’ve sat in a tree fall,
Before saplings could finish their race
And close that space for the light
That fell in with the tree among the ants
My head craned searching for colour
Flitting through the canopy above
The birds I came to see. And then
And then a buzzing at my chest
A hermit hovering at a false flower
The splash of red on my shirt
I could feel the breath of its wings
As it looked from flower to my face.
I too have been fooled by a bright flower
That has been something less, in the light
Made bright by a fall.
And left without my thirst quenched.
Comments
3 responses
Such a beautiful poem. I can picture that hermit coming to your flowered shirt looking for food. What a moment, captured forever in these words.
Thanks Robin. New Robin is it?
My blogging name is NewRobin13. I had to change it a few times over the years.