Mild winter – but grey skiesWalking in the burbs with little surprise
I thought, “If blind, but somehow wise
I could see with such special eyes.”
Ravine, with ducks in the creekHappy and quacking from their own beak
Having each other in their own clique
On one’s own one is very weak.
Walking with Nanda and his big dogBy the reeds and that odd log
Now less grey, absolutely no fog
Our pace is a walk, no chance it’s a jog.
The pic on the plague shows “this is a newt
Swamp sparrow”, oh so cute
If not for birds the world is mute
Until the world can hear that flute.
The icy pond, not safe to tread
It would be safer to stay in bed
The first step taken could be “your dead!”
That’s what nature has always said.
The trek was too short to really enjoy
For Nanda, the dog and this old boy
But at least we engaged the legs to employ
They are our tools, they are our toys.
May the Source be with you!