Humming Through A Storm

Lashing water thrashes in whirls

pouring masses of rain flood the

land in front of the house in only

five minutes drowning vision and

senses with sound and light when

suddenly a miniature, dark

silhouetted body speeds out of the

swirling blinding rain on lightning

fast wings weakening, but arriving at my

hanging feeder, drenched, clinging

on the foot rest for ten, fifteen

minutes and I wait with him until the

worst of the wind passes and he spirits

home to tell his story to the family