The Whiskey Jack
An involvement in the world as its own That characterizes crows, jays And the present in its presence raven Also is the mood of the whiskey jack;
Little red crumb of a bird With a crest and legs thinner than matches ... He's there before you know he is To the campfire in a cedar glade Where the forest is dark as its sighs With his moves quick as fingers Snapping, certain as a seamstress’ hand With you not the target of its eyes, Though any nutritious fragment
You might drop by accident or chummy purpose is ... And yet the whiskey jack is company: However small the heart a fine lesson.
Why are you so sure that you're loved Whiskey jack with little beak and eyes Quick as jumps in movie frames? My partner nudges me, "Look he's here!" And you know who he is, not so ambiguous As the presence of God, a lesser sign.