half a dozen jays
are in the plum tree,
shrieking their delight
and coloring the walks
red beneath them
with dropped plunder
the dogs and I tip-toe
through their battlefield
but still come through with
sticky shoes, sticky paws,
and the cries of the flying
in our ears
© Sarah Whiteley
What a sight that must be…however brief the harvesting of plums.
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Beautiful words and imagery.
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beautiful, 🙂
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🙂
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Great poem. The visual I get is vivid.
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thank you! vivid definitely applies to the jays 🙂
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