Fed, satisfied for the moment.
Curious, eyes looking, head tilted.
I know people who capture photos
of wild birds. Due to an accidental
death of Mama Blue Jay, son is
more easily available to take
his picture. I know he’s not
like the magnificent eagle
nor colorful as last year’s
Chicken hen and rooster.
Baby boy blue just tugs
and pulls at my heart.
Next posts, one all
scrunched down,
settled to think.
Last one, so
funny, with
neck craning
to peer inside. . .
See you later,
Blue jay.
Ancien Hippie 