Where do you go in the bristly night
so as not to freeze–to save your life?
What strong will keeps you coming back
to a feeder’s ice and water stack?
Stretching wing, defending still
my yard, my deck, my windowsill,
its nectar rich but biting cold,
you feed my joy with darting bold–
my winter companions.
We have lift off!
Nice tribute to the joy givers God sends us. They lift my heart when they come around and they don’t have a clue I exist. Great job.
Thanks, Joe, They certainly up my pleasure quotient. They know I exist because they do fly bys at the feeders, but the fact I am their food source is lost on them. Sounds vaguely familiar . . .
as always… so beautiful.
Thank you!
I was wondering if they are still hanging around. Amazing! They do survive by slowing their heart rate and such at night. If you ever see one in this torpor state, leave it alone, it will perk back up as the day progresses. I read the story of a woman who brought a hummingbird in because she thought it was dying. But sadly her ministrations are what killed it.
Amazing and so beautiful.
Thanks. I found out one of my neighbors has been feeding them for years, and they have a nest they return to each year. I am going to get those pics come spring! Babies!
what a lovely ode to the playful creatures who have graced your site countless number of times! i love the poetry. the pics are great, as always. hello, ms. lily…
Love that they are still sticking around.
The positive far outweighs the negative, as your poem most accurately describes…