The hummingbirds were plentiful in Madisonville that year.
I sat in the cool, still morning,
Gathering my thoughts;
Deciding whether to beseech or assault the day.
Humming filled the air
And called my eye
To the red liquid suspended in glass
From my porch roof.
A pair danced there;
Whether duel or duet was hard to tell.
Tiny rapiers thrust forward
They came together.
Buzz, buzz—too close, it seems.
Pause in perfect unison,
Sip the wine,
Then rise to dance again.
