The pond-duck pair walks nearer

The female no prettier
than the flashing male
himself full of quetzal
and her the plainer for it—
& the old man came today
in simple rain which meant
no harm nor he to ducks
nearly drowning in the pour
& with none but hands
of nothing and feet to fall
he stands curved as the oak
not once named but curved as he
& falling too into the water—
& neither oak nor man
clothed in what was given them
preach fear to the ducks
for the ducks too are lobotomised
of the naturalness of being.
Who stole from them
& the oak and the man
their sense of blood
& their sense of earth
& its endless habitat of killing—
& none seek answers wiser
for the rain sleek
upon their hides bark and feathers
soon for pneumonia familiar atop
the grave of their sole saving grace named fear.


~ by Jeremy on June 9, 2010.

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