Concerning Survival: Blue Jay Poem by Dennis Ryan

August 8, 2006

The old Blue Jay looks out at us
from the pictures Don took last week—
her eyes teach us what survival means.
"The bird never moved", Don said,
"Never moved until I threw a twig at it,
and then looked down just like that"—
with a sweep of his arm. "I didn't know
she was alive until I noticed her heart
beating in her chest during consecutive shots."
This Blue Jay is beautiful—from the gray hair
on top of her head down to her weathered wings
held in tight, she looks out at us with empathy—
yes, I said empathy. This is what it means
to survive for a long time: I can identify with you.