I am seduced by
a tiny warrior
also a seed sower and hunter.
I spy it daily in the maple.
Observe its quick slip tongue,
keen perch, dashing retreat
Silently,
swift, feathered body
flashes irresistible color.
I want to see it every day.
I want it to be mine.
I’ll mix a sweet drink
poured into plastic, red blooms
to attract—love.
As it sits mighty atop a cottonwood
in the river’s breeze among scrub jays,
hawks and osprey; it yearns
to return to me and the maple,
to tuck into spring leaves and
fend off only the others that
fly with honey and stings.
By Keri Hakan
Keri Hakan was born and raised in Missouri but currently lives, loves and writes in Oregon. She holds a B.A. in English, a minor in Philosophy and a certificate in Holistic Nutrition. She has been published in the Spring 2019 edition of Windfall A Journal of Poetry of Place as well as the June and August 2019 editions of Tiny Seed Journal.