48/93: Hummingbird



(image via Etsy, from Dusty Shamrock Studios)

This morning. Sitting on the deck. Pen in hand. Pup by my side.

A hummingbird appears. Looks at us.

I realize the feeder hangs above my chair.

Pup watches intently. Inquisitively.

It floats. Wings buzzing. Annoyed. It’s time for breakfast.

“What is it?” Pup’s brown eyes ask me.

She’s not sure.

Not a bird. It floats. “Maybe a bug?”

I notice the long beak; Wings blurred into semicircles.

Pup cocks her head. Confused.

I touch Pup’s back. “Come on, girl.”

It’s time for breakfast.


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