Some may say I am the devil,

Of Jersey vintage living in the barrens,

Drinking water of the brackish variety,

Eating only road kill & the occasional hiker,

Though sometimes I may even get a tasty young biker…

But really I am an angel with wings,

Yes that is the me I see in the mirror,

I really do know of God & his angels as kings,

Sometimes they even of me sing…

Rambling through the Pine Barrens,

None are there, in that place, cattle barons,

Through those old pines I do jump from tree to tree,

I never travel on the ground, after all I got wings,

What’s the sense with them attached to my back,

To walk upright like a man, instead I do float,

In the upper limbs, out of reach of man, near the sky so black…

© ed ~ 6/26/10