Duck Watching
How can ducks look so serene,
gliding swiftly 'cross the pond?
While just below the water's surface,
frenzied churning's going on.
Webbed-feet are all in action,
like old piston-pumping wells,
Not a feather -none is ruffled,
not a splash of wetness swells.
If ducks are left to just be ducks,
they sashay 'cross the pond.
They're never out of character,
just ducks -that swim around.
But if they see the breadcrumbs,
duck-watchers love to throw.
It's then they agitate the pond,
And it's a tsunami water show.
Intrusion -that's the fowlest rub,
ducks lose their duck resolve.
And in a hyper-state of quack,
ducks tranquil ways dissolve.
Do the moving ducks remind you,
of some folks you meet each day?
The quiet ones that seem so calm,
in their sad and empty way!
A few of them will slip through life,
as though it's just a tranquil ride.
But deep below their psychic surface,
Tsunami thoughts there-in reside.
Do not intrude as 'watchers' will,
Least you're ready to release.
A deeper -darker part of them,
what their minds let them unleash.
Copyright © Margaret Wade | Year Posted 2017
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