by James Callan
Half-hearted circles
broken wing
unable to dissuade the boys
green-hooded raiders who saw golden opportunity
Hard rain
causing the willow to fall
roots dislodged among standing water
She escaped with her life
though her ducklings had not
Bread crumbs to bait the males away
to offer peace
Opportunity lost
dissolved in the rain
In the toolshed
fumbling with the shells
It was the buckshot that brought the peace
one lame hen
three blasted drakes.
James Callan watches ducks from dawn until dusk. Find him on Twitter: @JamesCallanNZ