Flying towards the end of summer

Youth

spring flew in 
on the wings of 
your sleek
ruby throated
father 
followed soon by 
your emerald
mother
her coin sized
nest, a wee egg
becoming
you
without crimson
gorget 
but streaks 
dot your
neck
to wear on your
flight 
far away from
us to warm
climes 
and your
future iridescent
throat

For the Record,
This day came in dark and now we have torrents of wonderful rain. Another Hummer pose, through the kitchen window with faffing in the extra.

All hands begging for PEACE