Tuesday, March 29, 2011



Lone Drake
In stubbled field
Surveying the flat terrain
Head high in an effort
Seeking a companion that didn’t arrive
Waiting patiently hour after hour
For his absent mate
Anxious for hen
She’s lost?

Ken Goree

There was a single lone duck out on the school’s playfield early this morning.  The few seagulls that are usually dotted amongst the tufts of crabgrass weren’t even present.  He was standing, head held high.  It did make me wonder, where his friends were; or his mate.  Between each long walk back to the office, and the copy machine, I’d check to see if he was still there.  Over the course of an hour, he hadn’t moved at all.  I thought of him one last time as the movement of the student tide began to wash in.  I worried that maybe he was not going anywhere because he was hurt, and also worried that some over excited and well-meaning students might damage or shock him while trying to do good by him.  On my last check, I found that he was gone.  I hope the winds of spring bore him on to someplace wonderful.

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