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.

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