the tiny thing tried to back up,
if one can call reversing gears release,
its beak so finely wedded to the screen,
although threaded might be a more appropriate usage;
nonetheless, its nervous hovering
remained until the nail of its beak came loose
and off the bird took, flash of wings a blur,
the teeny god headed towards its own mystery,
and not once did it explain its fear
or utter anything about a harrowing escape.
"When the hummingbird's beak caught in the window screen," by Dianna Henning. Text presented here by poet submission.
Art credit: " photograph taken on February 22, 2007, by Jon Fife.