Duck, Duck, Then There’s Me.

Oh, ducks!

You fly singularly.

Then I see you fly in flocks of three.

Duck, duck, and then there’s me.

Watching from the ground.

Wondering how it can be.

Ducks migrate as far

as hawks and birds; yet they fly

with such rapid wing beats

one would think they’d tire out.

How do you migrate duck?

Perhaps that’s why you shout.

Quack, quack!

Duck, duck, then there ‘s me.

Listen to your whistling wing beats.

As you fly overhead.

Giving a quick quack, hello.

I look up. Smiling.

Duck, duck, then there’s me.

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