Danger Amok

The blue jays are after the cats lately.
Harassing them.
Squawking and scolding, as they hop
from limb to limb,
from clothesline to fence top,
from fence top to rooftop,
in pursuit of their every step.

Missy waves her short bobtail back and forth,
annoyed at being followed the entire circuit of flowerbed, trees and lawn.
Squawk!
Squawk!
Squawk !
Screeches the jay,
not stopping its tirade, even as I carry my bucketful of vegetable leavings
beneath the limb and past my cornered cat,
to the compost pile behind the shed.

Perhaps the jay wishes I’d curtail my cats.
Stop allowing them free run when there are babies in nests.
Mouths to be fed.
Danger amok.

I stop.
Pick up my harassed black cat and carry her,
belly bulging under my hands,
into the house.

I coo softly.
Explain why jay yells.
Advise her to stay clear.

As soon as I release her,
She’s out the cat door again.

The squawking continues.