Analysis

Small bits of hope trickle by
as the stellar jay yells for more food
and we stand fearless
even though we are broke
and often alone.

This thing called work
defining our time
by dollars
filling up our hours
with fluorescent lights
and wandering moons.

Trading our lives away
in hope of more money
and health insurance
for when this work does us in.

But it is okay in the end.

Our liberal bluejays will visit
carrying hope
in their beaks.