The humid breeze barely breaking the heat,
the whispering shimmy of leaves,
the street noise, a motor cycle gargling by,
slowly fade to quiet.
But the needle beaked hummingbird
perched on a twig for five, maybe seven, heartbeats
will forever be remembered
in a frozen photo in my brain.
Well,
I will remember that piece,
but was there a breeze?
Was there a Harley?
A Harley hardly an object in that memory.
I object to its presence.
Erase,
along with the leaf whispers.
Was it windy?
I wonder…
No!
Just that startling moments mauve throated..,
Wait.
Was it a female?
Dull green? Gray?
I prefer luminescent ruby and emerald.
Voila! A male!
There now!
Just this second,
the picture in my mind,
edited,
is my past.