The language I carry
in the bones of my wings
The blood I shed
for my country in Wars I did not fight
The nutrients I crave
while I feed on sweetened offerings
These small moments of stillness
Transcribe the music pulsing
In my sinews that so
Desperately want to perceive
a hopeful future
Ripped so violently from me
I exist
As a reminder
Of my ancestors
A memory
Of my sons and daughters
A fleeting thought
of what might Be.
My only joy is
stubborn persistence.
Can't stop, won't stop.
A Hummingbird in the Throes of Climate Change

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