Insights on the Economic Crisis

I opened the door today, when the mosquitoes were clear
Three hummingbirds came in, or so it would appear
Two left and one remained

We tried all day
Using brooms, sweet talk, hanging things, an open door
That last ruby hummingbird just would not leave

He or perhaps it is a she
Sleeps so lightly, with the bill pointed up at the sky
Like a miniature swordfish

Up and up it flies in the ceiling …
It must be a horrible feeling
Come down and out the door, will you then?

I fear it could die
Unless it could fly
Out my door

He or perhaps it is a she
Sleeps so lightly, with the bill pointed up at the sky
Like a miniature swordfish, but praying

It landed on me
It was in reach
But the hand within six inches, and off we will go

When not roosting it perches by the window
Watching the other hummers play
And cries