Miniatures 110 and 97

110.
Hummingbirds

in they swoop
down they soar
hard to ignore

up and around
in dizzying loops
they roar

here then gone
off like a dart
they tore

only to return
with a buzz
once more





97.

I yield to
the whisk of
the wind
brushing my sleeve
in shifting shadow
closing into night