AIRSPACE OF CHERRY BLOSSOMS
Undetected by radar
a hummingbird enters the airspace over the National Mall
its wing bones practically hollow.
Do you weigh more or less than an angel?
I don’t know their names.
I don’t know your species.
Most days I don’t carry a business card.
If anyone gives you a name let it be
a schoolchild who draws daisies with faces in crayon.
In the Capitol delegations bloom
and negotiate some small point; debate the placement
of a semi-colon or tank; but your knowledge
defies gravity and security protocols. Tell me
do you think we’d know if joy attacked us?
Will there be sweetness when the last blossom falls?
published in Bluestem Vol. XXVI No.1 (2016)