Now in spring nectars, nectars, nectars.
Columbine, salvia, cerenthe, lupine, penstemon, delphinium
trumpet blossoms blue and red, pierced by needle beak, invisible tongue.
Prismed feathers break sunlight into magenta and green.
Looping back and forth in dance, soaring up beyond sight,
figure eight wing work, crashing rocket dive and up again with a mate.
Whirring thing, 1/10th of an ounce, spinning,
a hum, a blur, a “chipping” sound from the tree.
Thistle and dandelion down, caterpillar silk
woven with filaments of a spider’s web into
a secret basket concealed in lichen and bark.
In winter asleep in torpor, or sucking sugar water from the feeder,
in fall a racing heart, overnight across the Gulf of Mexico.
Hummingbird, brilliant wing, bursting heart, beija flor.
*In Portuguese the word for hummingbird is “kiss the flower”