Tiny twin fluttering fans dart up to hover just there,
beak fronting and losing its length to bud inside.
Wonder of airs elite sharp drawing sap succulent
stand we aghast at the seminal speed entranced
by powers so small whoops a daisy, oh my oh my,
who can say so quickly we watch and marvel aghast.
But where are, oh where, the wings are only a blur,
speed redundant, so smooth slick colors apparent.
Silent whirring subconscious twirling, right there,
catch the miniature sign of rapidity coursing through.
What we know we can only dissemble, fully performing
this wonder of stutter flight alive to us, it goes, it goes
Disappears into our imagination bereft of performance
longing for the next sighting, alive to its quicksilver promise.
