Ruth Gooley’s most recent poem to appear here was “Night Owl” (March 2020).

Reflections on the Virus
By Ruth Gooley

A cone hangs
from a wire
under an eave,
mama hummingbird,

quiet as a breath,
jostles her eggs,
turns them,
trances, wakes,

darts off for
a fly or
a speck of insect
nectar, does not

mind me
as I sweep
up leaves,
drizzle water

onto the red glare
of a kalanchoe,
the droop of a
string of pearls,

the pink blast
of geraniums,
the air so clean
after a late rain,

the patio my limit,
the virus afloat,
my nest in peril,
my flight curtailed.