The Ducks

Do they dream of vast oceans, of soaring sea-raised mountains of wave upon wave of rolling seascapes? The little brown and white ducks show no such inclination. They dabble, dibble and paddle, gently pecking at moments meandering from here to there on the silky grass banks of a shallow pond. Sometimes they squabble over a pettiness creating ripples of distraction. None ponder the infinity of space and time, they peck at such thoughts dismiss them before they can surface and in a quick spray of water, then shake them from a ruffled feathered tail. They nibble, they paddle, and dabble, while slowly circling the reflection of a gigantic sun.