BLUE JAY


He mocks me,
All three ounces of him.
His snake-covered eye backs me up.
I bury my feet in pine dust
And submit to his scolding.
It's not what he's saying
In unintelligible bird-mutters.
It's the tone that so offends me.
He bristles his blue comb at me
As if this were his arbor alone
And I? Some fleshy dinosaur.

Copyright 2001 by Janice Hale-Hobby