On city ponds and lakes ducks
bring out their ducklings to
set the city services scrambling.

Firemen turn on a hydrant to
float the ducklings fallen in a deep
drain on their way to the park,
reaching down with their bird net to
scoop them up, place them in the bucket.

Two police officers control traffic
in the mornings along the street where
two ducks cross, each with a line of
ducklings all tottering across to the
lake in the park. Running over
ducklings makes folk squeamish.

Waiting for our bus to exit the park
I become impatient, look out the
window to see why we stopped.
A mother duck steps up to the kerb
followed by a line of ducklings, then
crosses the grass to the lake.

How many of these ducklings
will grow up to be shot in
the countryside during next
winter’s hunting season ?


6 thoughts on “Ducklings

  1. A sad truth telling poem of cute babies. How sentimental we are! Hey, today in an antique store I saw a dozen ducklings under a glass dome. It was so nauseating, I couldn’t bear to look closely but I think they were real and stuffed!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh no ! We still stuff real living creatures after they die. Well I did know that, I just did not want to think about it. Two of the incidents in the poem occurred in smaller places serving rural areas. which is why I thought they were so incongruous.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Hmmm? Ducks and ducklings. Birds have such short lives usually. Supposedly, they are the descendants of the dinosaurs? It has been determined by some. That Tyrannosaurus Rex had feathers when young. Velociraptors too. It has been proposed that the first dinosaurs that learned to fly by climbing trees? Given that? Maybe most dinosaurs were feathered and instead of the roars associated with them, were more like squeaks and chirps? Could you imagine a dawn chorus in the Cretaceous period? Cheers Jamie.

    Liked by 2 people

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