My "not at home" message

I heard the rhododendron call
it's essence pulled me
like the tendrils of a memory
a long lost, dearly remembered
friend

So, I responded to the call

Now, my days are filled with birdsong,
punctuated by the rhythm of my beating heart
smoky air draws down on the mountain passes
as humming birds beat their way
to the same fragrant essence
that pulled me here

I will return (Lord willing) in late May
after the redbuds whither