hummingbird

i came across a hummingbird,
found it floating in my room. i
stared before it flew away, but
thought, "nothing is fragile," and reached.
a precious terror kept it still --
i felt its heart against my palms.

inside my closet with the bird,
i pulled the dangling cord for light,
let go of it, and the room filled --
loose feathers and with snowy down,
the flitting fingers, flutter wings --
i closed my eyes to feel it right.

but then the wind flew out of it,
i caught it as it fell. i fed
it nectar from a flower, it eyed
me all the while. and i saw,
in the bird's starving proud black eyes,
it meant, "i hate you completely."

with restored beat, it left, without
thank you or goodbye, and though it
cursed me guilty in its gaze, when
i find a feather on my clothes,
my hummingbird, my hummingbird,
i lay awake the king of you