Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Down the wooded path I walk,
a whiskey jack I do hear talk.
Flitting back and forth between the trees,
saying, I see you but you can't see me!
I stop to take a needed rest,
he revealed himself, looking his very best.
Scavengers they are said to be,
don't you have a treat for me?
I reached in my pocket and I did find,
a tiny morsel, will this do fine?
He hesitated but for an instant,
then picked it up and flew off in the distance.