Blue Jay

Once upon a mountain trek I spied
a female jay standing on an out-

-stretched branch, her body all brown
and dull blues. She called out caws to

the world we didn’t get, us hikers. Bird
language is beyond us. But I think about

what it is we didn’t understand everyday,
and about how she doesn’t think of us
on any day. No one can talk to birds;
no one can with honesty tell what they say

or sing in early hours of a mountain trek.

One thought on “Blue Jay

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