Dianna Henning: "When the hummingbird's beak caught in the window screen,"

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: "Hummingbird crop," photograph taken on February 22, 2007, by Jon Fife.

 

Dianna MacKinnon Henning: "Set Free"

When my husband caught the hummingbird
and freed it from the screened-in porch,
his big hands, a woven bird’s nest,
a few fingers opened into an escape hatch,

I held my breath as one does before the delicate—
that spot of bird, singular in its journey,
wings like small lead windows.

It seemed strange to see a six foot man
who could easily crush the body of such a small thing
release to air the hummingbird, who once in flight,
turned as if to say, I’ll remember this.

"Set Free" by Dianna MacKinnon Henning. Published online by Your Daily Poem, March 21, 2014. © Dianna MacKinnon Henning.

Art credit: "Newly-banded Hummingbird takes off!", photograph by Margy Terpstra/Hummer Haven UNLTD, published by Birds and Blooms (originally color).