First Hummingbird

on my front porch
spring’s first hummingbird
hovers at the vine

many years ago
you came to me
like that

I had just opened
fluted pink, glistening
in the morning dew

a scent drew you
from that shantytown
of needles and bruises

back ten years in time,
you imagined
to before imprisonment

slaps for dirty dishes
and photos
that begged for flame

and I was a shiver
at the soft breeze
of your wings

nectar in a tiny fountain
and you drank
until dust