There in the distant autumn,
the sound of bluejays on the wind
atop a heartbeat, a pulse -
ceasing to perish, a refusal
to ever say goodbye,
caws fade with flight, despite
all aspiration to the contrary
an echelon
a vee…vanishes
all for one and all but for one
becomes the single point
upon which we all converge
in time in sky we find
those similarly winged
cc: CC ‘23
Alphabet City 
Beautiful. I especially appreciate the reference to blue jays whose squawks bring me back to my childhood in Valley Cottage New York.
Thank you. I have been attempting to expand the portfolio of birds I can identify by call. One should catalog their childhood memories.