Six Jays In Our Tree
Conversing in their squawky language.
They linger here on their journey
From North to south and back again,
Against a sunny sky of Spring or Autumn.
Harbingers of the changing seasons.
They pause here as they make their way
I delight to see them flashing blue on blue
To moderate climes less cold or hot
Than these temperate latitudes.
I delight to see them.
