Quick! there’s that
low brief whirr to tell

Rubythroat is at the
tigerlilies—

only a passionate baby
sucking breastmilk’s so

intent. Look 
sharply after your thoughts said
Emerson, a good
dreamer.

Worlds may lie
between you
and the bird’s return. Hummingbird

stays for a fractional sharp
sweetness, and’s gone, can’t take

more than that.
The remaining
tigerblossoms  have rolled their petals
all the way back,

the stamens protrude entire,
there are no more buds.