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Hunting Down a Lame Duck
There was a lame duck Injured looking for a quick buck And feeling struck Thankful for the merciful luck After being stalked and plucked Taking a swim on the river Avoiding a hunter looking for dinner Good fortune appeared on the shore In the way of a young boy image that stated ‘opportunity score’ With the hunter nowhere in sight This lame duck was confident without fright As the boy stood in the brush Seeing the fowl now in a rush Fluttering over to the boy Hoping he will be his living toy When the boy saw the disabled feather An idea came ‘make the lame duck better’ “Quack Quack,” he started the health care debate Calling his new friend a mate Using his tender loving care He worked to repair the tear When all of a sudden inside the bush The hunter made a sound when the plant felt a push Hearing the rumbles Instinctively the lame duck escaped bumping the boy as he tumbled A shot was fired that was a miss Once again the hunter was not going to get his dish “Son,” he said. Realizing the lame duck was not dead “He was a slippery one,” When the boy responded, “Are you having fun?” Later that evening the hunter joined his son Waiting for the restaurant plate to arrive featuring roast duck, well done “You see my son,” the hunter quivered Hoping his son had a good time and wasn't bitter “Many lame ducks are out there, who are running scare,” “So this is fair,” the hunter ended seeing the roasted duck daily special fare “You are right, the boy started to pick up a fork ready for dinner work “He had it coming,” the boy continued to reply, “the lame duck was getting ready to lie and die resulting in a send off to be fried.” “We are well fed,” the hunter said “Not in debt,” the youngest boy finished off The roasted lame duck they both bought
Copyright © 2024 Marc O'Brien. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs