An Eruption of Ducklings

A dog barks

on the trail up ahead,

nosing into the wood,

his leash stretched

to its limits.

A squirrel, I’m thinking.

But when I reach that spot

I’m startled instead,

by an eruption of ducklings:

this fumbling flurry of yellow fluff,

a convoy unaccompanied, unattended,

tumbles from the tall grass,

spills, scrambles onto the path –

a rumple-feathered, muddled,

adorable jumble of baby birds.

Disheveled, in apparent disarray, they

scurry ahead forming a huddle –

binding together and disengaging,

separating and recombining

in conspicuous confusion.

Lickety-split eleven ducklings

plop into the pond

paddling for all they’re worth –

a delightfully ducky skedaddling.

Their seemingly mussed tussle

 (I am convinced) is actually

a finely orchestrated distraction,

instinctive defense

designed to foil potential predators

such as this disconcerted wanderer

too startled and charmed

to capture anything

but a smattering

of haphazard

and fuzzy

photos.

PSC/2015

photos by PSC / 2015-June

 

This poem was penned to share an experience I had while hiking in the woods just this morning. 

Summer has truly arrived!

 

 

Below is a YouTube link to an old favorite summer song by John Denver - "Season Suite – Summer".  

Hope you enjoy the music and the season!

   ==> John Denver's "Season Suite – Summer"

 

 

 

A Rainy Day at the Park

photo by PSC / 2015-06

A Rainy Day at the Park

Where are the adventurers?

All those mud puddle warriors

undaunted by gray and wind and rain?

I’m seeking the sappy, snappy

splash-happy, soggy, leap-froggy,

flipping, skipping, dripping-wet,

I-haven’t-finished-playing-yet

kiddos I recall.

Where are they all?

PSC/2015

 

Spring Whimsy

photo & haiku by PSC / 2015

touch of spring whimsy:

spinning rainbow whirligigs

blossom on the lawn

 

Wildflower

photo by PSC

Wildflower

Not some horticultured whore, she was

missing the vivid purples, reds and pinks of the

roses and poppies she palled around with;

no bright berries nor succulent seeds,

no showy foliage to lay claim to.

All but invisible among her more colorful chums,

her pale and silver-white self

providing backdrop for bold, bright others.

Not a beauty to be seen with the naked eye,

more an aura of the soul, the spirit, the psyche.

Silent, not showy, in the sunshine, but

gracing the garden in moonlit glow

while others dimmed and faded into darkness.

Planted not by the gardener, nor tended with care, but

strewn by providence, and left to her own devices, she

blew into this garden bed to take root, and bloom.

PSC/2009-Nov

This is my Day 1 offering for the 5 Days of Poetry Chain.

Thanks to:

 Janet Rice Carnahan, Pearl Ketover Prilik and C.b. Wentworth 

for inviting me to play along. 

If you  are interested in joining the chain, 

"message me" on fb (Pamela Smyk Cleary) and I'll add you!