Something To Get Up For

"Hi ya, Zippy" says the man to the hummingbird
who checks him out quick and zips back into the leaves.
The man gets up to prepare the nectar for the widower,
 or the bachelor- Zippy's marital status isn't clear, but
he's been on his own so far this year.

Two cups of water and a half cup of sugar,
leave it to boil and can't help remembering her
in the kitchen, everything prepared at maximum
temperature, scorched pans, then turning back to the
window to see what appears to be a female on the feeder,
if his eyes are good enough and it's not a trick of the cloudiness.
She's smaller,without the colors on head and neck, and more curious,
regarding the man steadily without apparent fear.

Taking the feeder inside, cleaning it with hot water
to kill the bacteria, not wanting them to starve to death
with swollen tongues - a horror.

Living things need care.
Letting the mixture cool and
hoping what he thought he saw is true.

Whenever the man sees the bird alone, he seems, on the surface, alright.
To the man's eye the bird eats, moves with purpose, at what seems its normal frenetic pace.
The man also can't help but see her absence, his loss, motion only for motion's sake.

The man hopes he has found someone,
and wouldn't it be cool if it was her.

Time to pour the mixture into the feeder- it's cool enough - then
store the rest in the refrigerator.  A small ritual worth getting out of bed for.