We have no humming birds
But we do have their cousin,
The tiny sun bird in balcony.

The poet aunt thought bird
Humming guest from Tunis,
The incoming evanescence.

Every blossom on her bush
Is adjusting tumbled head.
Here there are no blossoms

Blushing a bush in balcony
Only an underwear drying
On a clothesline intimately.

( Recalling Emily Dickinson’s poem The Route of Evanescence)

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