Like Water Off a Duck’s Back



We watch them swimming in heavy Adirondack rain,

the mallards,

their scapulars, tertials, coverts

and all their other feathers folded around them,

the rain sliding off them,

as we would wish our troubles to slide from us,

so we could just glide, glide across rainy lakes and rivers,

beneath the thick pines,

with the deep reedy laughter of the females

and the short, rasping quelips of the males,

expecting little better,

confident we can shake off anything that comes,


our green heads upright

like the handles of stalwartly canes,

turning from this way to that.

-Dick Allen

Connecticut Review

Categories: Poems & PhotosTags: , , , , ,

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