My mother brings the hummingbirds. . .

or so it always seems. They flock to her

side in their frantic fashion and

linger in her shade.

My other brings the hummingbirds

everywhere she goes. She’s pure and sweet ambrosia to the

little buzzing birds and her nearness is a nectar

they can ne’er refuse.

My mother brings the hummingbirds

and now that she is gone they have flown me too.

Fighting off the butterflies and the bees along the way

the hummingbirds still follow her and will until summer fades.

My mother brings the hummingbirds

and soon I shall see them again. For I too

am helpless to resist the love of a mother

so dear.