They know a lot them ducks,
about where it's best to retire
when the need for rest takes over.
A mallard, who works every day
on the weir-torn river in town,
dabbles on an oval lake
designed by gardeners
imitating nature's haphazard
perfection.
He mingles with the swans and geese,
scoffs at the moorhens
as they patrol the reed.
The moorhens return the gesture.
His family sit on the banks,
five fuzzy brown ducklings
and their speckled mother.
The ducklings learn to swim
in an uncertain straight line,
the first of many lessons
while their father tries to sleep
on the water, and is dive-bombed
over and over by a hooligan chaffinch.
At day's end, they sit and watch
the swans argue over who shall chase
an unsuspecting coot.
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