End of Summer

Mother always loved her hummers.
That's what she always called the hummingbirds:
"my hummers."

In her annual spring tradition
She hung her feeders by Mother's Day.
Every day, all summer long, she refreshed the syrupy medley
That glistened in the sun behind jaunty crimson flowers.

She watched from her windows
As she worked ’round the house,
Monitoring their antics
As they marked their territories
Or performed spring mating dances.
Then watching carefully to
Count the precocious fledglings.

Her September birthday
Was celebration blended with sweet sadness.
She'd fed them well to build their strength
Now it was time for their age-old journey
Down to the sunny south.

Good-bye sultry summer.
“I’ll see you again next year.”

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21 lines/Nature
Written for "The Writer's Cramp"