Hummingbird

In the apple tree whose fruit is always lop-
sided but sweet, red sugar-water swings
in a clear feeder with a hook on top.

The hummingbird, like all awaited things,
lives in its absence, gives delight all day
by almost darting on imagined wings

into the shade where common creatures play
half-noticed. Neighbors tell me no one knows
if hummingbirds will venture here, or stay

long enough to be seen, where traffic goes.
But what is there to lose? For the one great
solace we have is patience to suppose

desire, at least, endures, and soon or late
what we call down should find us, if we wait.

Copyright © 2004 Rhina P. Espaillat All rights reserved
from The Shadow I Dress In
David Robert Books
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission