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Blue jay

A two-role actor, you quietly feed Mrs. Jay in her strong nest and later stuff the infants until they're plump as puffballs; you're a rare father, forging a family, united through the long summer. Turning about, in braggadocio, you wake me at dawn with a shout. Crest high you mimic all, teasing a squirrel who sees you hide an empty acorn in the hedge and cover it over with leaves! Truly an imp of mischief, but against the snow I cherish your dashing beauty; in the color of your wings lies a promise of blue skies to come.