Hummingbird / poem by Barbara A Meier

 Hummingbird 

The hummingbird shimmers in the chill of a dawn memory.

She darts, buzzes, and chirs, stirring up February's fake spring

as she hums at my kitchen window. 

A friend I didn’t know I had all those years. 

So much was lost in the vibration of a wing, when I moved away.

Leaving me with memories of snow crocus jewels,

shady sequoia patches, and a red hummingbird feeder suspended

outside my window.

Barbara A Meier is a retired teacher who now works in a second grade classroom as a paraprofessional in Lincoln, KS. Her recent publications include: The Gentian, LIT eZINE, The Mersey Review, Antler Velvet Arts, Piker Press, Anomaly Poetry Anthology Series, and Deal Jam. She has three chapbooks published: “Wildfire LAL 6”, from Ghost City Press, “Getting Through Gold Beach”, from Writing Knights Press, and “Sylvan Grove”, from The Poetry Box. She loves all things ancient.