Swimming With the Ducks
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The sun blazed hot, no cloud for a respite.
Life was hopeless, wretched and desperate.
The grass a withered brown, and tree leaves sparse.
No shade for the living, summer a farce.
Rockeries were lichen free, the rill dry.
Hopefully, the food caters would pass by.
Sally and I sought rest in our cottage.
The air conditioner used its wattage.
The best thing was that behind was a pool.
Where all our dark ducks could swim and feel cool.
In our gear, we jumped quickly with the ducks
Until the caters came with their big trucks.
Just a scribble
for want of better things.
Copyright © Victor Buhagiar | Year Posted 2021
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