A hummingbird by the buddleia, buzzing with the effort of hovering,
Behind it the green Tualatin river, hardly flowing, and semi opaque,
I can't think of another way to describe it except jade
Here, the bush grows wild, roadside verges and wasteground in the docks,
Drooping lilac fronds turning to rust.
A dragonfly on my patio,
sunshine, white walls and shadowed cornflower pots, the Mediterranean moved north
except for the raucous seagulls.
Reflecting on happy crowds when alone.