That Steller's Jay is back.

I read once: grief is like a Steller’s Jay. 
Lament at the things that you never did.
Love you had stolen fast in the night.
Forfeiture of the joys you once shared.
All mimicked by this cruel bird that haunts you
too far away to catch or brush aside
but close enough to be heard clear and bright.
The calls it shrieks at some point blend away
but this takes time. 
Even then, its cry of sheck-sheck returns
snapping you back to that moment at once. 
The mocking tone reminding you of them. 

This is a one-page lyric game about bullying a bird as an expression of your grief

Before you play, you will need marjoram, rosemary, bay leaf, fennel, and salt as well as a safe place to burn things. Please be careful with fires; do not leave them unattended no matter how small. You assume the risk of any damages or injuries incurred while working with fire. 

This game is dedicated to my lost lodestar, Zoey, who joked that birds were not real and had been replaced by spy robots in the 1980s by Ronald Reagan. All proceeds will go to the Epilepsy Foundation