Trochilidae

Take down the hummingbird feeder.
The willow tree’s branches are yielding,
But sing for the petite hummingbird
To still come hover over this field.
And if she does not return to here
Then scream her name for God to hear.
Surely though, there is a better field,
With countless more blooms and canes;
More than all the flappings of her wings
That let her fly in agile grace.
One day soon, this field will turn
And off to another, I know we head;
To share in the lilac tinted sunrise,
In the air that tastes of sweetest sugar,
To see our little hummingbird at last.
And with new wings, we’ll fly with her.