You found it, high amid the thick branches
upright on a twig, plastered with lichen1
blending with the live oak.
You spied it, bright-eyed daughter,
[5]
keen to find another life
among the hard leaves. You climbed
to watch a hummer feeding nestlings;
their tiny beaks gaped red. The mother
did not scare. The nest bulged with growing.
[10]
You called me to the mystery - so slight
I lost the nest each time my stare wavered.
You balanced on the ladder, took a photograph.
2
Opening a box chock full of unclaimed views,
I gaze at live oak leaves. In black
[15]
and white, a puzzle
until you, long grown and distant, recall
the hummingbird, remind me of the nest.
The littlest nest crafted by a mother
who fused spiderwebs and moss into a bowl
[20]
of softest down and laid two pulsing ovals,
warmed them, brooded them to flight.
A lost opportunities
B former relationships
C distant childhood
D past adventures
In the poem, the hummingbird's nest is a symbol of
1 answer
1 answer