A flower’s a labyrinth 
for pollinators. 
A sapling’s 
a log for a beaver.
A riverbed’s home 
for the snowmelt.
The belled flower, 
a beacon for the hummingbird—

who jostles among  
uplifted stalks 
but never visits for long, 
who sips while suspended, 
a flurry of wings, 
who resists capture 
even by photograph—