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Imagine the stories, these feathers must hold
Now wasted, laying here, on the ground
I wonder exactly, who lost these grand pieces
I find myself looking around

The ones in the trees, singing merrily
Can’t be them, not one is perturbed
So who does this plumage belong to?
This quandary, it has me disturbed

Then suddenly, I see him there
His blue outshines the rest
A jay, among the other birds
Feathers missing from his breast

Still he struts with the best of them
Unaware he’s missing his tufts
He flies away, back to his home
With himself, he is quite chuffed

If you look on the left of the bird (your right in the pic), you can see where he lost the feathers, after a scuffle with another jay.


Photos and Poem ©Dorinda Duclos All Rights Reserved