Mick Zerr

The sky is Nature's billboard,
Changing with the seasons.
Begging us to peer skyward
Offering us endless reasons.
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A look, a sound, a flash, a feather,
Necks crooked, glass up, focus.
Make no mind what the weather.
We must see it, and make a fuss.
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Yes, She saw it all,
This beautiful lady so tall,
From the feathered Red-skinned folk
To giant oxen with a yoke.
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Blue skies, a wispy cloud,
Southern winds have taken over.
Winter's lifting its nasty shroud,
Barren ground soon to be clover.
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As I watch the leaves of fall
Sailing the wind, no port in sight.
Starting from the tree so tall
Flipping up as nature's kite.
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Colors they are, in specs, strokes and the finest lines
Not invented by any Man, now or past.
Admired, copied, through all the times,
Silent, liquid, but fading fast.
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Do Birds Have Christmas?

On a chilly Christmas morn, as I looked out the window
at a crystal coat of frost on the Mulberry tree,
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To be read to 3rd grade children after they have been given a shiny new Lincoln Penny

Children, you might think this is just a penny,
But it is much more, much more.
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The Watcher

Mick Zerr©2009
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