There’s a blue jay in love
on our front porch.
Bold as a boy full of beer,
handsome and muscled and perfectly sure of himself,
he swoops, lands on the grapevine wreath and
pecks at silk leaves, raffia ties,
the scarecrow’s felt hat.
Neither the bird nor the scarecrow know any better
and there’s an analogy here
about love or not judging by appearance
or using your head
But—
This is one contented scarecrow.
He will never
dance off in search of adventure.
There are millions of ways to smile.
Here’s one: To bask in autumn sun,
perched on a wreath,
kissed by a blue jay
right on your soft canvas face.
Puff Of Smoke Poems 