The morning fog obscures the trees
But not the poles projecting from the lake.
I assume they once supported a dock
But now I am imagining
An obstacle course for ducks:
Who’ll prove to be the fastest?
The mallards, or the wood ducks;
The mergansers or the wigeons;
The scaups, the brants, the goldeneyes;
The eiders, or the coots?
My money’s on the buffleheads:
I love the sound their wings make
When their flock cruises in for a landing
And suspect they might be
Better at collaborating.
No comments:
Post a Comment