The Visitor Poem by Reva Kern

The hammock sways ever so slowly
In the gentle breeze
Of a hot summer afternoon
As I, lost in reverie, gaze up
At the bright blue patches of sky
Intermingled with the lacy leaves
Of the towering camphor trees
Whose branches arch over me
In a protective embrace,
And all the while, wistful dreams
Flit in and out of my mind
When -
With a whir of wings,
A scrub jay lands at my feet
On the wooden slat of the hammock
Casting an inquisitive eye,
He hops closer still,
Looking for company, I suppose,
Then off he flies without so much
As an adieu
To fetch a drink from the fountain
And then, he is gone -
Leaving a sense of solitude in his
Stead.