We took the ducks a walk today -
on wooden wheels,
trundle, rattle down the lane - yellow, red and green.
Coarse string, paint chipped,
scuffed and worn beak,
solid toy and solid legs and new found solid feet.
Down the path -
turn around and totter back,
not yet time for garden wall and bench and woven mat.
But chirping birds - grass and mill and summer song,
running water, fountain pond glimpsed over dry stone wall,
lets go home you're tired girl the ducks are getting sore.
No - shake your head and walk some more.
Here with me,
day before midsummer eve,
we can idle, we can chatter, we talk easily.
And I forgot,
when everyday seemed simple not,
to step from out the little stuff and come and simply walk.
Mild air and wild woods,
winding track and me and you,
duck and string and easy things and fit and well and good.
City bound on morning train,
butterflies and face to name,
Far from you and northern view and baby daisy chains.