He's Really Crazy

He's really crazy, that old mockingbird, Splashing in the birdbath, in his feathery shirt. Splashing cold water all over the place, Out in the open with infinite grace. In the middle Of winter, underneath somber skies, Getting thoroughly soaked as the day slowly dies. Ignoring the cold wind racing through the trees, Enjoying the cold like a warm summer breeze. And I watched enthralled, at the sheer lunacy, Shivering in my coat, on my trembling knees. Goose pimples running rampant, on my shivering skin, Drizzle collecting on the hairs on my chin. Admiring the mockingbird, on a cold winter day, At ease and relaxing, underneath skies Of grey. The strength and the hardiness in that body so small, Splashing in the birdbath, by the garden wall. He's really crazy, that old mockingbird, He sings the prettiest songs ever heard. And he bathes in the winter, in water icy cold, When God made you, he at once broke the mold. 2/4/14 Alton Texas