A Prejudiced Witness

This morning my wife and I
found two bluejays
making a rumpus in a tree
down by the creek;
they squawked and scolded
with the eyeball fury
of two people trying to
outshout each other
in a kitchen quarrel.

A weather warning broke out
so often in the conversation
that we felt our survival
depended on shingle shelter.

No two people are the same
except look-a-like twins
and a man and wife who
for fifty years have grown
into each other’s faces.