STARING

When does a concentrated, thoughtful look
Become a stare and therefore impolite?
Babies do it without imputing outright
Rudeness. Once a suspended grub undertook

To dance In front of my eyes for a minute and make
Me fantasize a greeting. Later a trembling
Snowflake, free, unfalling, I remember
Mesmerized my glance at a day-break.

Today I was picking a gallon of blackberries, nearly
Buried in head-high canes, and suddenly
A hummingbird hovered, wings a blur, and pierced
My eyes with his, and held them cavalierly

Hostage a while, then darted away, and leaving
Me rich with the memory, poor with a new bereaving.

(124, August 29, 1993)

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