29 December – Jayded

Unlike the long tailed tits that happily bob along
or the blackbird that bursts into virtuosic song,
the jay rasps raw loathing, as if my very existence is wrong,
whenever I enter the holly wood.

I don’t know if it’s defending its last stash of berries
or if it just views all walkers as confirmed adversaries,
but certainly its greeting is the opposite of merry,
whenever I enter the holly wood.

But I won’t let the jay’s jaded squawks drive me off
as it blusters and blithers and loudly mocks.
Instead, I’ll remember it won’t leave the tree tops,
whenever I enter the holly wood.

29 December - Jayded