One Bluejay's Time
One Bluejay’s Time
A heavy old Bluejay perches on a dead redbud limb,
His black eyes survey what he claims as his own;
Little sparrow subjects wait while he feeds,
He grabs a bite and eats alone.
The winged ones he thinks he has bullied,
Perch, camouflaged and wait,
Wait for years if they must, they are kind,
They will win – it’s the Bluejay’s fate.
Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2017
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