Question

Among the Leaves

Barbara Evans Stanush


1

[1]

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.



Moments


hidden in the live oak


large among the leaves.

In the poem, the hummingbird's nest is a symbol of -
Responses

lost opportunities
lost opportunities

former relationships
former relationships

distant childhood
distant childhood

past adventures

Answer 1

lost opportunities