Jay bird Myth

 

 

I think I thought you were a myth Jay bird

I did not see you except within the pages of a book

And I tried to fold myself so small I too

Would fit within the spine of a novel

Compress myself into a dead leaf that would thin out

Over the years between pages of words upon words

My silence thick, hiding between the vocal voices

Of Austen – Dickens – Anita Brooke

Books to make my life still holding my breath

So that emotion wouldn’t spill to kill a feeling

Starve yourself of oxygen till you are calm

A jay bird all unknowingly watches its reflection

Then ducks its head into the water washing itself

Not taking that human pause to see the years passage

To analyse the emotion in the eyes

Self conscious and self aware

But plunging itself into the flowing waters and fluffing its small head

 

 

I wrote this piece last night. We went to Sales water park yesterday (in the rain) to watch the birds and I saw a jay bird for the first time. This is a stream of consciousness piece so I haven’t edited, and have deliberately left it bare of punctuation in a bit of an experiment to see if it would still make some sense.

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