my little hummingbird
moving towards a stasis of light,
holding a simple secret, a bell's machinery!

       trilling on wiry breath
      or my mouth's plumule,
        my chromatic bird,
       unmoving as a bud translated
        in reticence, plucked from
     the mire of ground's vastness,
       speaks only so timid of my
       hand's agronomies,
    glazed by a moment's fresh glare: your unending eyes that see
     yet do not hear!

      take my hummingbird and fly
    with it! take it away from the peripatetic and plant it soft
      to your mouth's jar!