Poetry

SPRING 2022

 

Days Measured in Hummingbirds

by REBEKAH WOLMAN

which are sometimes 
                              hummingbirds  

                    darting
                                        between peripheries   
instantaneous, easy to miss

          and auspicious as meteors

or flying in place
                    the figure eights
          of their wingbeats
                                        supporting them
                                                            as they tread
                              the startled air

                                        sometimes they are sphinx moths
          hawk moths 
                              hummingbird moths
                                                  which I first saw in France
where I mistook them
                              for hummingbirds
          not knowing
                    there are no hummingbirds in France 

sometimes
                              they are thoughts
                                                  darting
                    then hovering
                                        over gardens of language
foraging and feasting 
                              probing their long tongues
                                                                      of impression 
                                        sensation
                                                            idea and meaning
into the throats of words
                              like certain flowers
                                                  evolved to the benefit of both
          their own reproduction
                                        and that of the hummingbirds
whose heads collect pollen 
                    at one flower
                              and deliver it to the next

          finding nectar
                              in the fit
                    between the contents of my head and the qualities
 of my materials

and sometimes 
                    the hummingbirds are long broad fields
          of still silence
                              that hummingbirds
whiz into 
                    and out of

Note: Italicized lines are from Art & Fear: Observations of the Perils (and Rewards) of Artmaking by David Bayles and Ted Orland.

 
 

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Rebekah Wolman

Rebekah Wolman lives in San Francisco, on the unceded ancestral homeland of the Ramaytush Ohlone people. Her poems have appeared in Essential Love, an anthology of poems about parents and children, and in The New Verse News, Limp Wrist, MacQueen’s Quinterly, Orotone, and Cultural Daily, where she is a 2021 winner of the Jack Grapes Poetry Prize.