From a Duck (Por Un Patito)

Day is dark amongest the cloudy sky, sun shows its face here and there, at least it wants to try.



Remember the early morning mist blanketing and hovering for all to see...a promising morning this day might prove to be.



For before we wake, we hear faint water trickle and pour, descend from a fountain always pourous and always fresh.



We wake, exposed to the quick bite of cold and the constant refreshing sound coming up to our nest.



My young ones squirm and kick to the extremes around, something you feel so sudden when you are this close to the ground.



Hunger grips our tiny stomach, and off the waddle goes; searching for needed food for our desperate pallette.



Food is done, tummys filled, and now we have our energy rebuilt.



For a walk we go, we dont know where, but its and adventure that I hope we all can share.



Along the road, funny creatures I see, all of them are looking at me, for one is tall the other thin, some are old and wrinkled in skin.



I turn around lights appear, going this way and going that way without any fear, for here I am little ole me, waddling along as happy as can be.



Off the journey goes, a good stetch of the webbed feet; but a cry I hear from my caravan which is getting weak.



Relief I see beyond the ominous green, a sanctuary a kind that all folk have seen.



A resting place, for my little ones to find relief; a place to relax and play to help forget the grief.



On approach, joy effortlessly not contained; for now is the time for all baby ducks to come out and play:



1 baby duck....2 baby duck....3 going all the way through 7...these are my little ones going all the way to there established heaven.



Yes this is the time moma ducks enjoy the day with family numbering into seven.



Time well spent, never returned, off we go back to make the needed ventured trip back home.



Through the green we step, seven all in a row, moma duck and babies eager for the return trip home.



I look and see, and a tall dark haired figure is looking at me...



Glasses...and a funny hood thing to his head...he watches me and I watch him till the sun drops down dead.



For clouds appear and rain descends, to the nest I must go, and I depart my very brief friend.



Waddle, waddle; quack, quack; my young ones speak to me, but focused I am, to the nest is where I want to be.



Time goes by; warm, moist, droplets drip on my head, but nothing can compare to a nice warm bed.



The day is ended, we all arrive to a welcoming party, to my surprise.



Everyone is glad, we made it home safe and sound, and now I rest with my family, close to the warmth of the ground.



Day is dark amongest the clody sky, I bow my head...and sleep...is the reason...;quack...I close my eye...zzz.