Hummingbird
by L.M. Scarpitto
A life lived in tremor,
is to betray the day
for the hour.
The Hummingbird
mistakes exhaustion for purpose.
Its heart rattles its cage.
A prisoner to unrest.
Frantic wings too anxious,
for blossoms slow to arrive.
It hungers for nectar
it scarcely tastes.
It hovers like guilt.
No.
Like a prayer.
Hoping that trembling might overlook,
the burden of becoming.
L.M. Scarpitto was born and raised in Phoenix, Arizona. Her literary work often explores themes of identity and perception and the unique patterns that shape the human condition. Her work has appeared in Threshold Journal, Inkhorn Review, and The Prescott Times.
