I don’t like gravity.
Ever-pulling me down.
This earthbound-blasphemy?
I’m not meant for the ground.

Near death, green hummingbird,
nectar-starved, panicked breaths,
trapped in tar, flypaper,
I’m dead with all the rest.

What’s out there, anyway?
Dead space, stars, and silence?
Or distant whispers? Waves?

from worlds, far, faraway…
Contented, I must be,
to struggle through each day,
fighting this gravity.

©️ CGT, 2018.

One thought on “Hummingbird

  1. I’m anti-gravity, too. Dang! That hummingbird analogy tho… really “sticks” with me. (Sorry, couldn’t resist.) Seriously, brilliant conjuring, taking the abstract and turning it into so many wonderful imageries like a wizard. Never a generic metaphor from you.

Talk to me.