By Bob Gaydos

Back-burner, bozos!

The news of the day can wait.

Haven’t you heard?

They’re here. The birds.

The ones that hum.

They’re back.

The ones that flit and dart

and go and come.

They’re back in town

from hither and yon

and even farther.

On course again to delight

with their frantic flight.

A feathered tour de force.

***

‘Tis been a while,

half a year or more,

since they fled for warmer shore.

No notice.

No goodbye.

Just pack up, flit and fly.

Sad to see you go, said I.

Bye bye. Hope you enjoyed the hospitality.

See you next year.

***

And now they’re here.

‘Twould appear, to stay

At least for a while.

For the summer.

For the smile.

For the sugar.

For the nesting.

Though there’ll be precious little resting.

It’ll be mostly flitting

and flying and zigging

and zagging.

Some hovering, too.

Looking, ever, for the nectar. So Sweet.

All the while humming

to a frantic wingbeat.

***

Did you hear?

They’re here.

They’ve come.

The birds. You know, the tiny ones that hum. The greens and blues and purples and reds.

And our very own ruby-throated.

Dear Feathered Friends,

Welcome back.

Have a drink. Try to relax.

Your arrival

has been duly noted.