XI.

A tiny hummingbird

perches on the thinnest limb

of a cedar outside my window.

 

It’s approaching dusk – a heavy

feeding time and everyone shows up

and I’m listening for Ravens.

 

Mornings open here with mist rising

from the meadow, the babble of birdsong.

And Ravens launching their busy day.

 

Coffee on the porch and Raven chatter

from the pine stand across the meadow –

up on the rise across the road.

 

And we close the day in much the same way,

but with wine!