by Dana Delibovi
The hummingbird darts, hungry for the feeder.
Waits out the wasp. Blurred wings thrum.
A moment’s not enough. All life makes plans.
A mouse hides morsels in a crack,
a bramble cane conceals inside its fruit
a calendar, dated for July.
And much as some say, “live in the now,” their words
final and righteous as husbands packing up
for other women,
the living plot the future, storing what they can.
One eye is focused on the task
and one ahead. Watch a cat pull a towel
over its bowl. Watch bees heap up their hives.
A bending form
curves to the chore: a woman with her spade
must tend well
in the fickle days
of summer, already nipped by fall.
::
Dana Delibovi is a poet, essayist, and translator. Her book of translations and essays, Sweet Hunter: The Complete Poems of St. Teresa of Ávila, will be published by Monkfish in October 2024. Delibovi’s writing has appeared in After the Art, Apple Valley Review, Bluestem, Ezra Translations, Fishbarrel Review, Moria, Noon, Presence, Psaltery & Lyre, Salamander, U.S. Catholic, and many other journals and anthologies. She is a Pushcart Prize nominee, a Best American Essays notable essayist, and a co-winner of the Hueston Woods Poetry Contest. Delibovi is Consulting Poetry Editor at the literary e-zine Cable Street.
Image: Boba Jaglicic
ID: a cluster of bees around a small wood opening.