Hummingbird Manifesto

I am going to follow the ruby glint of the Anna’s hummingbird 

away from my potted fuchsia 

out past the tip of the gnarly cedar 

until she passes into sunshine.

I am going to spread my own wings in glittering unfurled feathery glory 

whenever

stacked plates unpaid bills cracked windshield grimy bathtub pull at me. 

Whenever.

I am going to learn to hover and dart and make my escape.

For once I will feel the greatest weight below me and not above. 

An inversion of gravity.

For once I will see where the hummingbird goes to rest her wings.