the wings began to hum...

Jeff Daniel Marion

The Man Who Loved Hummingbirds


Once I saw my father
            lift from last fall's leaves
                        below our wide picture window

a hummingbird, victim
            of reflected surfaces, the one clue
                        a single feather clinging above the sill.

He cradled its body in his cupped
             hands and breathed across the fine
                         iridescent chest and ruby throat.

I remembered all the times
             his hands became birdcalls, whistles,
                        crow's caw from a blade of grass.

Then the bird stirred and rose
            to perch on his thumb.
                        As he slowly raised his hand

the wings began to hum
            and my father's breath lifted
                         and flew out across the world.


                               – from Lost & Found