Poem Poutporri

Dredging the archives, intermittently contributing to them.

The Tragedy of Jacob

A bird exploded on the pavement

last night outside the nursery

I’ve worked for thirty odd years.

His name was Jacob, Jay to those

who knew him best, knew his hopes

and dreams, his crippling fears, knew

what made him laugh until he cried,

knew about his secret love affair

with Sharon, the sunflower

suet lady, who, come to think of it,

hasn't been around since we

started to carry exclusively peanut treat.

Simple-minded Jay must have

thought her dead. How romantic.