I hear the familiar whirr
and look up from my reading
as I sit on the front porch,
turning my eyes
to the hummingbird feeder
in front of me.
Sure enough,
they zoom passed,
chirping at each other.
Two couples—
two red-throated males,
two gray females.
The females chase each other
this morning
and for long periods
the males sip away
at separate feeders.
The females chase
and dive at each other.
Once, right in front of me
they hang in mid-air
attacking with beaks,
clicking them
as if in a sword fight,
which it kind of is.
Another morning,
both males
and both females
are in what seems like
mortal battle,
quickly using every tiny measure
of energy gained
from those stealthily-obtained
quick sips.
Their tiny bodies pulse
as they suck up sweet nectar
through their long beaks,
heads constantly popping up
to look about,
for someone about to attack.
Even resting on tree branches,
their heads are moving most of the time,
quickly glancing left and right.
Too soon
they will make their way south.
I wish they lived here
all year.