the harried mother
takes a breaks from some
distant thimble nest to sip
a bit of bright red nectar
hanging in the shade above
clover still wet from last night’s rain

absent for almost a month while
nesting duties called I’ve kept
three feeders filled but never saw
a visitor since the last cold wind
of April wended north and early
migrants winged off to Canada

ours not to see everything that passes
in nature then but to only to continue
keeping to our wordless pacts

               feeding the rescue cats
coaxing their prized garter snake
away and into the pasture

               adding stray bits of thread to
cedar branches and marveling at blue
birds riding the tips of the hedge trees

               driving around an endless procession
of water turtles routed by the floods
lumbering slowly in the fast lane

and now this brief reward passing by
the window to spy a female hummingbird
and knowing it’s enough to keep up the effort.