This beautiful creature was perched on a withered agave stem yesterday, watching over the harbor seals that hauled out on Treasure Island.
It’s a well-worn but apt cliche: hummingbirds are poetry in motion. But whole stanzas could also be written about the magic spells they weave, even in repose. Those iridescent feathers, for instance, catching fire in the sunshine…! No surprise, they’re the subject of the poem I’ve got in my pocketses for “Poem in your Pocket Day.”
Hummingbird, by Harry Kemp
The sunlight speaks. And it’s voice is a bird:
It glitters half-guessed half seen half-heard
Above the flower bed. Over the lawn …
A flashing dip and it is gone.
And all it lends to the eye is this —
A sunbeam giving the air a kiss.