Out My Window

I look out my window
And what do I see
A dear doe deer
Neath my aged apple tree,
A crowd of crows cawing
That I don’t consider noise
Their way of warring words
Lending nature a voice,
A ‘V’ of geese gliding
On a migration route
Headed for the sunny side
Giving us the boot,
A couple late robins
Going through the grass
Checking out the chow
An end of season pass,
Along the old rail fence
A squirrel on the run
Fall’s final forage
Just about done,
I look out my window
And what do I see
A gracious God’s goodness
Looking back at me!

D.C. Butterfield