The Blue Jay. By Emily Dickinson

    No brigadier throughout the year
    So civic as the jay.
    A neighbor and a warrior too,
    With shrill felicity

    Pursuing winds that censure us
    A February day,
    The brother of the universe
    Was never blown away.

    The snow and he are intimate;
    I ‘ve often seen them play
    When heaven looked upon us all
    With such severity,

    I felt apology were due
    To an insulted sky,
    Whose pompous frown was nutriment
    To their temerity.

    The pillow of this daring head
    Is pungent evergreens;
    His larder — terse and militant —
    Unknown, refreshing things;

    His character a tonic,
    His future a dispute;
    Unfair an immortality
    That leaves this neighbor out.