By the path
In a sloppy field
50 pairs of ducks
Duck walk
It sounds
Like the creek
I grew up near
(Cut throat trout
Stubbies
Letting go of the rope and
Disappearing into the deep black pool
It is gone now
Not the creek
The pool)
Looking at all those ducks
Made me hungry
As the bald eagle
On his black cottonwood perch
In the horse's eye sky
Alternately watching the river
And us
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