It's
About
A duck
That eats all the other ducks.
- No, that's not the poem.
- Oh. How does the poem go?
- "Ducky, Ducky, Duck."
Fern
Heart
Tree rings
Cleaved stone -
Coffee tops fresh drawn
Each morn, and tragically lidded.
Four
Flat
Back slaps
Wake me. My
Big arm takes him in.
He owns me, I think gratefully.
There's
A
White chair
Where I sit
Being quiet, reading
And they come and play at my feet.
Shoes
Gold
Top blue
Trousers white.
You will remember
This day by them. Oh, and my belt.
He
Twists
His head
In smirk-jerks.
No. Not now. Not yet.
The kiss must wait for him to sleep.
Can
By
Can, she
Fills the pail.
Intent scampering.
Daddy! Pour this over me now!
1,
One
A day.
That's the way.
Today I looked up
And - whoosh - fell into too much sky.
