yes brother duck, it’s a wonder
the whole world, the wharf
is water, and here you lord over
the great world’s wound bleeding
this moment’s victory will bleed
over into an uncertain one
still writ by water
Tag Archives: ducks
before the dew
the nights are getting warmer
and that kiss of 2am dew
will feel less sloppy less frenetic
less like that fumbling teenage lip lock
in the church basement
the river is calm for now
yet the ducks still explore the wharf
dry as it is, expecting to swim
there are no girls with auburn hair
here to sing me into the water
and into the imagining
that I am not a duck
searching midnight basements
for the first hint of dew