“BLUEJAY” – Poem by Heather Whitley Gibson


Check and unchecking
punching in
punching out
laughing and running
and running out
walking and dying
and dying out
calenders and chapters
ended calenders
of windows passed
checked windows
framed with a couch
for each frame
dusted with words
xxxxx’s & ooooo’s
white paint glosses
over like gallery wings open
then opens, unhinged board
cold coins    aimed things at
knowing, death slaps
together. Sung.
mouths part. Together.
my soft soft scarfed.
open hand.
moving steadily as an old
horse moves. Forward.
folding fields, remembered in measured
milk water basin. Best rented Clean.
train soul passes. Broken factory
A dirt callow
Morning. rooster rectory clacks
hollow. dusting death leaves
leavened humming bluebirds skyline steam
the dust roared with brown turpentine
cursed with crumbs.
unchecking paint patterns open
book cover, a re-print of silk paper
marks, stamped rubber
stripped lines
blurred, unchecked.
Bluejay inside, postmarked.
My soft spot scarfed
Opened hand.
Moving steadily like a cold horse
dappled forward. A hand shake,
Then a headlock.
No mortgage, no notice, nowhere to arrive.
Open hand.
Birthday reminder.