I don’t know what to say about this one…it was an interesting thread to follow.

 

The Beak-fast Club

 

The blue jay is the football captain of the aviary

Loudly proclaiming a six-pack of feathers

Too pretty to be quiet.

Bullying the silent finches

In the hallways of tree line streets

Shoving them into the locker of shrubbery

 

While ring-necked doves

The church going girls, quietly coo in corners

Demur and soft bodies

Ripe for ample eggs and feathered nests

Perched in gray anonymity

Heads bowed over necks, shackled with lines

 

The chickadee a victim of short man syndrome,

Puffed up and wailing loudly

That he’ll take you both, apart or together.

One wing pinned to his pompous fluff

Sharp, rounded beak

A busy purveyor of seed and stalk

Bobbing his head to the children singing back his song.

 

But by far, my favor resides on the rarely seen

The rustle of fur and feather preceding her.

She emits no heralding squawk

Need not justify her puffed up presence.

Or take comfort in soft humility.

She is patient observation,

Diving speed and certain death.

Sometimes leaving only a ring of pretty blue plumage

Before returning to solitude.

A snarky outcast, destroying ego

And the fowl sense of security.