J is for jays: the gray ones that eat from your hand at Rainier but are elusive by the marsh in the Adirondacks; the Steller’s of the northwest; the western scrubs and pinyons whose paths I’ve rarely crossed; our common ones whose varied blues, when really viewed, are impossibly beautiful.
J is for the jacks I used to swipe up, letting the ball bounce only once; for Judi Johnson down the street in 1971; for my nephew Jack and my niece Jean; and especially for jabirus (whom I’ve only always seen in zoos).
J is for all the uttered justs of Christians (lord I just ask that, lord I just pray that); it’s for the joejamiejimjamesjonjohn boys I’ve kissed; it’s for the Jameson whiskey Dewey used to always share; it’s for the jelly beans I will forever shun.
J is for the Joneses in my record collection: Norah, Quincy, and Rickie Lee. It’s for the generous juniper berries that gave their lives for my gin. J is for Jabberwocky’s Jubjub bird (but not the frumious Bandersnatch). It’s for the jangle of keys, for the jumps I’ve taken and the ones I never will.
J is for jest, which surely I do.
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8 comments:
I just thank you got this. It's just perfect. You just hit the right note, and we're just so lucky to have you writing for us.
Wow - you've kissed a lot of boys. Jezebel.
"J is for all the uttered justs of Christians" Love that line.
And the jubjub bird, of course!
J is a joyful hook of a letter.
What a wonderful time you must have had writing that! I had a wonderful time reading it.
Quite the verbal rollercoaster ride.
And K is for???
Helen: Fair question. I thought I'd written K in my head before I posted J, and yet nary a key has been tapped toward the K goal. I have GOT to get to it. This music blog is taking its toll on the Alphabird...
OK, I've given up on my original K idea and am writing something completely different.
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