Other selves

What is it to be a baby jay, clumsy,
squeaking, bouncing in branches?
Or the sibling squirrels, chuckling
and tussling on logs and trunks?

What is it to explore the freshness,
the strangeness? To be in the spring
of life, unaware of winter’s bitter teachings?

In the meantime, we share the nursery and
the raspberry harvest with our other selves.