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If it weren't for the stuffing and roasting and having your eggs nicked I wouldnt mind being a duck. Better than a chicken. A very big duck. Like the ten foot parrot who says: Whose a pretty boy? I wonder if anyone knows a story by Herbert George Wells -- Aepyornis Island Must go thanks, Patrick L On 7 January 2014 18:36, Patrick McManus <[log in to unmask]>wrote: > L enjoyed that the Ducks just moved away a bit! > P paddling fast > > -----Original Message----- > From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On > Behalf Of Lawrence Upton > Sent: 07 January 2014 18:09 > To: [log in to unmask] > Subject: ducks > > Ducks toil upon a calm ocean, > > working to stay in place; even > > veering, apparently serene, > > > > their paddling feet invisible, > > as the dog approaches, reaching > > some tidally-exposed boulders, > > > > clambering with loud snorts, panting. > > Gulls hang on almost till the last, > > then wheel and screech down at her back. > > > > Noisy fish break through the water. > > The ducks keep churning the water > > although moving away a bit. > > > > > > > > Richard Kessling / Lawrence Upton >