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Hilda Conkling

Humming-Bird

Why do you stand on the air

And no sun shining?

How can you hold yourself so still

On raindrops sliding?

They change and fall, they are not steady,

But you do not know they are gone.

Is there a silver wire

I cannot see?

Is the wind your perch?

Raindrops slide down your little shoulders . . .

They do not wet you:

I think you are not real

In your green feathers!

You are not a humming-bird at all

Standing on air above the garden!

I dreamed you the way I dream fairies,

Or the flower I lost yesterday!