A Duck

Jun 14

I see, down below
A duck alone on the pond,
And I feel a sort of bond
Over this way we both know:
A solitary way we go—
On he goes, and on,
Quietly paddling around the pond,
Adding ripples to the flow.
Then he takes to flight,
And flaps his winged beauty
Up even with my eyes,
Before lifting above the tree tips’ height.
Be well, solitary—
May you go well and thrive.

written May 5, 2025