This poem comes from Hummingbird Nest: A Journal of Poems by Kristine O’Connell George. I took a photo of the poem’s painting, an empty ficus tree under a full moon, and it’s been on my phone all summer.
Empty Nest
Kristine O’Connell George
No sign of them.
The time finally came.
My hummingbird family moved
away.
Tonight
the dark seems filled
with cold and cat and owl.
Pocket-sized birds, sleeping, alone,
out there.
This is how
it’s supposed to be.
So why do I keep watching
this empty nest in this empty tree?
