Poem: Jay Visits Battlefield Park
I flapped out of town to give the countryside a look
On a particularly chilly recent day. What, boss, do you think
I found, I who so enjoys my blueness? A flock that I dismissed
First as mere dusky breasted robins, those dullards, when
Seen from the rear flashed electric azure,
A full field of it, wingtip to wingtip, and I love being blue,
Especially my crest, but even I know I am striated. And
What do you think, boss, all the while they did not
Utter a sound, all ten of them, but repositioned themselves
A few at a time from brush to branch and back
Silently, just a thrushing of the air with each move.
Well, boss, it gave me pause. I’m accustomed to chatter
As you know, even harassment, but perhaps a quiet moment
From time to time would…I don’t know, I should check with
Note to reader: A blue jay who confesses admiration for Don Marquis has learned how to tap out messages on an iPad that is left out, from time to time, within reach…it’s my intent to pass these on as I receive them.
This reader in Burlington, VT, had not thought about archy and mehitabel in so long. She thanks you for the reminder.
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