I Feel Ya, Little Dude!
A Wednesday Prose Poem: lighter breath
I feel ya, little dude! — The hummingbird buzzed in for sweet nectar from the Rose-of-Sharon bush. An ancient bush: it has always been there to the bird’s mind (and mine). It was not a removable thing. Not a temporary thing. Not something that could just vanish.
But, bush and flowers are gone. Men cut it down, as men are wont to do. The little bird sat in a nearby tree perplexed, I imagine, then gathered itself and flew on. All I could say was — I feel ya, little dude, I feel ya!
These things are not supposed to happen. The world is not supposed to turn upside down. Bushes filled with nectar-producing flowers are not supposed to disappear. Our parents are not supposed to suddenly be gone.
All creatures believe in continuity. With all our minds and souls. But that is not what happens. Loss freaking happens. Devastation freaking happens. To all creatures, great and small. Grief is one thing that binds us all together in the end.
I watched the hummingbird. It flew from the tree, supped from a different flower. If it can keep on flying so can I — I feel ya, little dude!
~~ Rhonda Marrone 8/2021
Thanks to J.D. Harms for this prompt:
