Every day the chirping Verdin comes
A tiny bird with a greeny breast
Swinging from branch to branch
Of the sprawling hibiscus bush
Fishing for drops or bugs
In the crevices of the buds
And the throats of the flowers
But the hummingbird has already
Taken for itself the first sweetness
Thus the Verdin's chirping-chirping
As she gathers all that's left
And then when they're both gone
I swear to God a dove
Pounces on the next door roof
Nodding and pacing and staring
Too late to bless us all
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