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    • Nov 13, 2020
    • 1 min read

Blue Jay

By Sarah Short, '23.


To the Blue Jay that perches upon my backyard fence,

you are the naïve portrait of my solitude in all of its glory.

You sit so hushedly, meditating upon the verdant.

Too: I wonder what for?

Would one not be more enamored of one's songs?

Birdie’s glide and stride over slippery morning skies, a film of cerulean brush strokes twisting and pulling against thin clouds that loll and crawl lazily.

Besides, a capacity for free flight would be a trait one would hold firm, fight, persisting feverishly to keep up high!

And yet here you sit, and I sit.

And I will remain until you bound,

and then I will keep, keep sitting here.

Too: I wonder what for?



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