humming along

Image

Hummphrey…or is it Hummelia?
(photo by jaz)

How humbly doth the hummstress brood!

In her woven thimble of moss and silk,

ensconced two eggs, their size minute

—here our hummer-hen nestles, astride her ilk

How quaint she looks, all tucked inside

A teacup’s worth, a lone mother’s pride

Is the fit quite snug? Will the perch hold fast?

Seems a miracle, that this coup should last

But last it does, and in a fortnight’s time

two chicks are hatched (whew! the whole family’s fine)

Such ugly, naked, precocial things:

one’s called Hummelia, the other, Hummphrey!

How frenetic and fleeting, their lives ahead!

A scant few years zipping, sipping sweets till they’re dead

Tiny hearts, spritely wings, a-thrumming and a-churn,

No ho-hum existence, this humdinger’s term

But does the hummingbird ever feel

hard-pressed to breathe free?

Or is its condition less ordeal

and more pure, saccharine fancy?

We’d as soon assume the latter,

but the latter belies the truth—

and the truth, it’s said, of the matter

is that life, by and large, lacks ruth

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s