Wood Duckling
A few hours after hatching
North America’s only perching duck,
Takes a Fluff-filled death defying
dive from the nest
to the hard forest floor below
The height from which they leap
is astonishing, 30, 50 ft
Their wings are but nubs
And they bounce on the ground
After ricocheting off branches or plant life
to join their mother below
Sometimes I feel a kinship
with those ducklings
As each fluffy feeling of mine plummets
into the public sphere of LexPoMo.
It doesn’t hesitate too long,
doesn’t consider whether it’s truly ready
Or equipped to deal with what hard blows
may result
Sometimes a mere hour after birth
The wood duckling discovers flight
before it’s grown wings
7 thoughts on "Wood Duckling"
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It does feel like a plummet when you hit submit sometimes. I’ve been enjoying your posts this year Jerielle, thank you for sharing.
So glad you are enjoying them!
And I love that plummet and submit have such a similar sound! You’ve added to the poem!
Glad to contribute!
I just realized I should’ve wrote something about the mother duck calling at the bottom. I’m the mama they are the ducklings, and it’s for their own good! This one has me chuckling a lot I just can’t stop seeing it.
Such an apt metaphor, feels very accurate t0 this experience. Nice duckling, this one!
I love the metaphor. Sharing poetry is often, well usually, a monstrous adventure. So many possible tregedies.