The hummers are gone; they left by moonlight.

There was no need to sneak away; lodgings,

food was free into perpetuity.

Perhaps the anticipation was way

too much for tiny drumming hearts to bare.

Maybe, they could not sleep like us, as kids,

wide-eyed with thoughts of sunny surf and sand.

I would like to think they darted passed our

window as they were going, peeping at

our dreams as we re-imagined our own

migrations; our reasoning’s back and forth,

battered between the same locales, misgivings

and some forgivings, the same trees for years.

We have our instincts, too, craving the trees.

They must have offered a chirpy goodbye

because I woke knowing something was gone,

lost or forgotten but unsure of what.

Do they rendezvous with old friends and kin

or do connections, commiserations

languish….falter in pursuit of nectar?

Costa Rica! If we could go on an

Eco-tour, we might sip the same flowers

and they might zip-up to us tweeting their

apologies for leaving abruptly.

They did not have to pack, just lift and leave.

Wouldn’t it be great to rise in air

feeling all weight dropping from rising feet

not having to worry about the dogs

or what you’re leaving in the frig to spoil

or if the bills are all paid or if you

show enough affection and concern?

They left three days earlier than last year.

I marked it on the calendar as I

cross off every day anticipating

….or is it gloating over surviving?

I’ve got to stop this crossing off of days.