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Humming bird
April 9, 2021
Like a humming birds sweet food,
and golden honey on toast;
Your taste on my tongue
or words in my ears.
It is as home as the apple is to the worm.
Your mothers purfume
on the clothes youve dressed me in,
Is like hope
I can be happy again.
Your white musk faded,
And so did your smile.
We are no long the same like peanut butter
and jam.
But rather a silver blade;
And royal blue thread.
© Donna M., Van Nuys, CA
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