~Beverly Hills Hotel, December 1958
Outside, hibiscus blooms
the color of raspberries.
We made her in this bungalow.
Tiny pink-throated hummingbird.
The doctor wore pink, I think.
“Would you like a cup of tea?”
The playwright writes the line.
It is dialogue; and I say, “Yes dear,
tea with bread and jam please.”
Then I remember jam spread
on the bedsheets.
In the cold of morning
I’ve held a hummingbird
like an egg, wings stilled.
