A poem for Don D - no sightings
- In honor of Don D, who recognizes the value of whimsy.
Here's one fo my favorite childhood poems back at you.
Joe - By David McCord
We feed the birds in winter,
and outside in the snow
we have a tray of many seeds
for birds of different kinds and breeds,
and one gray squirrel named Joe*.
But Joe eats early,
Joe comes late,
And all the birds must stand and wait.
And waiting there for Joe to go,
Is pretty cold work, in the snow.
*My apologies to Mr Lill for using his name in this way. I tried to
exercise poetic license and change the name, but unfortunately
chose "Fred" and all the birds ended up dead, which isnt a good way
to start the year. Sorry, Joe!
River Forest (cook)