I don’t know what to say about this one…it was an interesting thread to follow.
The Beak-fast Club
The blue jay is the football captain of the aviary
Loudly proclaiming a six-pack of feathers
Too pretty to be quiet.
Bullying the silent finches
In the hallways of tree line streets
Shoving them into the locker of shrubbery
While ring-necked doves
The church going girls, quietly coo in corners
Demur and soft bodies
Ripe for ample eggs and feathered nests
Perched in gray anonymity
Heads bowed over necks, shackled with lines
The chickadee a victim of short man syndrome,
Puffed up and wailing loudly
That he’ll take you both, apart or together.
One wing pinned to his pompous fluff
Sharp, rounded beak
A busy purveyor of seed and stalk
Bobbing his head to the children singing back his song.
But by far, my favor resides on the rarely seen
The rustle of fur and feather preceding her.
She emits no heralding squawk
Need not justify her puffed up presence.
Or take comfort in soft humility.
She is patient observation,
Diving speed and certain death.
Sometimes leaving only a ring of pretty blue plumage
Before returning to solitude.
A snarky outcast, destroying ego
And the fowl sense of security.