Poems ✍️
  02.09.2026
  30

Author: Herbert Nehrlich

Humming

My mother was a hummingbird
my father a black crow
he wouldn't let her speak a word
that's why I'm humming so.
When father died in early Spring
we buried him in dirt
since hummingbirds don't ever sing
she hummed, which he preferred.


  Lineage silence grief inheritance

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