|Photo Credit: Michael R. Ritt|
Icy Angel Wing
By Michael R. Ritt
An angel’s watching over me.
I found the proof in a cedar tree
That grows outside in our front yard,
Its limbs upraised majestically.
He must have been there through the night,
From setting sun to morning light,
To see us through our slumbering hours
And put our enemies to flight.
The biting wind and snow did sting,
And to the cedar he did cling,
And faithfully remaind on guard,
Although, alas, he froze his wing.
He had to leave it where it froze.
Went back to heaven, I suppose,
To get a new one in its place,
And left the one to decompose.
The morning sun will warm the breeze
That’s blowing through our cedar trees,
And melt the wing that’s hanging there
To make a bath for chickadees.