An incongruity

These are
the collective nouns
for hummingbirds:
a charm
a glittering
a shimmer
a tune
a bouquet
a hover

Call them what you may
they are not at all charmed
by each other

They are

This I have learned
by observing
a half-dozen tiny Amazons
battling over the feeder
sometimes striking each other
so hard
that one smacks, thunk,
against the window

I am also learning
their colorful language:
warning cheeps
and indignant squeaks
over who gets the sugar-water
even questioning chirps
from the safety of the
pink crape myrtle branches
whenever I remove the feeder
for cleaning and a refill
(I am bringing it right back,
I say aloud
to a subsequent
skeptical silence)

Right back to the nectar
they come
with renewed vigor
never singing
only once in a while
by some temporary truce
feeding side by side

I might call them
an incongruity

Although, in a way,
they are a bouquet
of diva style:
I can now recognize
the one with black spots
from her neckline
all the way down her pale belly
and the bigger one
with a pristine ivory belly
whose back shimmers
brighter green
and my favorite of all
the smallest one
with just a touch of red
glittering at her throat
—a tiny lady wearing
a precious ruby pendant

When I opened the blinds
this morning
there she was,
Little Ruby, hovering,
looking in at me for a split second
of mutual awe
before she darted away

which, hummers being
what they may,
makes for me a

Forest Music.~Brenda-Starr~.CC BY-NC-ND 2.0.

2 thoughts on “An incongruity

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