Those blue jays came around again today,
making such a racket they woke Jim up.
He didn’t mind, though -- he had nowhere to go
today anyway; he had nothing to do.
So he stayed in bed awhile listening
to their blue bravado and feeling alone.

He thought about how once upon a time,
he would’ve played the scarecrow, loud and mean.
But now he kind of liked their morning visits.
Today, for example, after finally
dragging his body out of bed somehow
and making himself a *** of coffee,
he pulled a chair up to the window where
he could watch and listen, silent, unseen.

Smoking and sipping, he passed a blue day
until they flew away. Then he felt sad
again for being white, earthbound, and human.