A Neighborly Visit

May 7, 1992

The kind May sun corrected my heavy hand by making my garden hose spray a rainbow, and while I stood by, dumbfounded, a hummingbird paused in midair, slighted on dark earth, and bathed: Carefully cleansed each fine feathered wing, his iridescent hackles, his crimson crown, and with long ivory bill newly-washed, sipped of the mist. Thirst quenched he sped off to a walnut limb Where he preened and dried himself, and eyed the sun in blue space, then launched himself to a nearby beech that swung his mate and their two white eggs in moss hammock spun of spider web.