Poets are Wildly Smart, Depressed Creatures Who Live, Mostly, in the Past
-for Isak Dinesen

When I watch the luminescent hummingbirds
in a blur of zig zaggy speed
hovering, darting,
flicking their long tongues
eighteen times a second,
drunk on all that sweet nectar,
I think, ah, yes,
this is how it’s meant to be.