I wanted to be more like you,
I did. I wanted to fit in
your hummingbird world
with its hummingbird nests
and its delicate wings and
its predisposition toward
delicate things, such as
tea cups and flowers
and gossamer strings.
So I painted my body
with delicate swirls
and colorful, whimsical
intricate whorls, and I tried
to fit my whole self inside
your dainty settings,
I tried, I tried to be more
like you, but there is no hiding
these giant gray legs and
this massive gray trunk
and these floppy gray ears.
It’s obvious. I am an elephant,
dear, and I just can’t squeeze into
this fragile world.
I belong home
in the elephant herd.
And I’m sorry I broke your fine
china cups. It’s so evident now
I can’t fit in them, but …
well, sometimes we need
to fail to learn. We need to digress
before we return.
I still think you’re lovely,
though slightly absurd,
oh beautiful, delicate,
bright hummingbirds.