CALIFORNIA JANUARY

By Louise Moises

I discover a small green object on my driveway—

at first, I think it a leaf.

On closer inspection, I find the lifeless body

of a hummingbird,

his little wings folded,

looking as if he has worn out,

closed his eyes, fell asleep.

I cradle the tiny body in my palm,

stroke the feathers of the breast—

soft, very, very soft.

On this bright, unseasonably sunny day,

hush of winter overwhelms me—

I think of my husband folding his arms

around his fading body, closing his eyes,

never waking.

I look up into the cherry tree

where the hummers always sit—

I see only the bare branches

of vacant January.

#DarkPoetsClub