Same Jay Seen Twice
I have not forgotten the way
a bright blue jay can change a day.
A month ago, he shuck down snow.
He knew not to break into song,
but clicked his beak: "Nothing is wrong."
Now it's spring and he, being wise,
makes the greening limb fall and rise.
He jeers, he chortles, and he squawks.
I swear I hear him try to talk,
then mock his enemy, the hawk.
Homage to George Herbert
At that beginning, I
Was possessed by a ghost
Known too well as Want.
I was the host at first,
But soon the roles reversed.
I was, by my self, lost
Like a country parson
Banished by his parish.
And Hunger came so close
I became the owner
Of his name and he mine,
Unworthy any time
Of friendship or of friends.
Then pain came to an end
At Love's wide open door
Ready there to receive
Me and lonely Hunger.
For us, a table was
Set to feed every need.
We, who strayed, sat and stayed.
Invitation to a Damselfly in March
Devil's needle your bright glint draws my stare
When your dart stitches the warming air
Two dimensional bog dancer
First fresh sign that spring is here
Head first you disappear
Neon streaked prayer
Light wind panther
Paul Jones has published poems in Poetry, Red Fez, Broadkill Review, 2River View, The Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, as well as here in Grand Little Things, and anthologies including Best American Erotic Poems. Recently nominated for two Pushcart Prizes and two Best of the Web Awards. Chapbook, What the Welsh and Chinese Have in Common. Manuscript of poems crashed on the moon’s surface in 2019. To read recent publications by Paul Jones visit http://smalljones.com