Poetry by David Filer

Dedicated to The Imani Project

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Sometimes, when people

go who we do not


want to lose, they are

replaced. Not a true



but something that keeps


their awe present. So,

the sudden wingbeat


and taut wire-like pluck

of the hummingbird,


body iridescent

in the slanting sun,


brought her back to us.

We could not but look.


But then, as if we

shouldn't have, or looked


too long, she vanished.

It was time enough:


for that quick song,

we were flowers again,


and remembered

our blossoming hearts.


(published by Poetry Depth Quarterly)


—David Filer