ruby-throated hummingbird
fresh from the jewelweed

hangs in front of my mouth
like an unhoused question

I spread my fingers wide
skin wrinkles like old bark


I grew up climbing trees
hugging the trunks for dear life

or digging for treasure
at the old farm dump

that green- or purple-stained glass
that once held whiskey


buzzing from one bright
flame to the next

what rain-soaked radiance
precedes a fall

and where might petals unfurl
if we ever woke up

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