Thirsty.

He is angry with me,
iridescently,
he buzzes past my face,
a flutter for a pace,
he suspends himself, it seems,
right in front of me,
we make eye contact –
two little black,
sweet and innocent b.b.’s,
it’s like he’s yelling at me:
“Why don’t you leave?”
through angry buzzing,
of his lightning-fast wings,
he is little, indeed,
for a bird of his breed,
but I am taken by,
the look in his little, black eyes,
and such a show of bravery.
he is not afraid of me,
not today, anyway…
he just wants to drink,
and his fearlessness,
the buzzing messages –
that he communicates to me,
leave me no other choice,
but to respect,
the hum of his voice.

2 thoughts on “Thirsty.

  1. Loved this, and the picture.

    Liked by 1 person

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