The Laughing Ducks
The ducks on the river laugh forever in the sun.
I can stare out my window, but not for long
but what I went to do is not what I remember.
What I remember is
the crows.
It wasn’t the usual here and there caws:
“Hello! How are you?” No.
It was cawing nonstop, until I paid attention.
Something’s going on out there.
I peer out the window…
A bald eagle? Here?
Dives on the ducks! Swoops up empty
to try again! Another miss!
Again! Failure.
By now, the ducks have arisen together
and the eagle turns south with empty talons.
The cawing slows and quiets
as the ducks encircle the valley
and return in unison: one hundred tiny splashes
to start laughing again.
Thank you for reading
If you would like to support my poetry, please clap, share, or donate