Each October it makes me melancholy,
‘tho I know their staying would be folly,
for the nights have grown much colder,
making their instinctive urges smolder.
Fly south they must, in annual migration.
Now they can brook no further hesitation.
To survive, they must seek new summer heat.
Their departure signals our summer’s defeat.
All my hummingbird feeders hang forlorn;
the end of summertime pleasures I mourn.
Hummers’ leaving foreshadows winter’s arrival
-- once Mankind’s ancient struggle for survival.
Months of dreary wintertime cold lie ahead.
(For me, that is. They’ll be warm instead!)
All winter, to have them back, I will yearn,
for hummingbirds will bring summer’s return.
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