Sixth Saturday

A dozen seagulls
Float calmly on glass water
Pecking at breakfast.

Three Brant geese fly by,
Shadows splayed on river’s blue,
Disappear at pier.

Single mallard swims.
Female left with another.
An old, sad story.

4 comments

  1. carrie says:

    love the last one especially

  2. SJ Rozan says:

    Thanks, Carrie. Poor guy looked so lonely.

  3. Poor, sad mallard. Perhaps there should be duck matchmakers. 😉
    Lovely poems.

  4. SJ Rozan says:

    Thanks, Mary. That mallard may yet find a mate, but a few males do always end up bachelors each season. The sad thing in this case is, the three of them — two males and a female — were swimming together for awhile. Then two of them paired up and flew away, leaving this guy by himself. ‘Twere ever thus.

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