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Up from the creek
Dawn breaks.
All nature wakes,
and up from the creek
waddles three little drakes..
A momma mallard hesitates,
time abates.
Six guarded peeps cautiously await.
Scratch grains form yellow rains.
They some how manage to sustain.
Pecked at, swallowed with a gurgle,
greedily devouring every kernel,
until only the dust remains..
Copyright ©
Nancy Kaufman
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