18/12/12 from 13.13 @ Strathclyde Park

Encroaching,
marching on their own two feet,
an army of mercenary mallards
are
besieging,
beseeching me
to be fed
until,
realising that i am ill-prepared,
they are
retreating,
reproaching me
for lack of foresight
and lack of bread. 

Trudging on empty stomachs
in solitary single file,
waddling into water,
their V-tides rippling from webbed feet,
they are troops
in green camouflaged berets,
reforming their formation
gliding the glassy surface,
swimming on in sadness.

Still wishing to be their general,
i walk into peace time
where stark proud trees
are resolutely waiting:
red-veined shrubs
whisper coming Christmas
as dewy grass is glistening.

At the dam,
crashing its crescendo,
warlike water eddies
towards the quiet truce
of the relentless river,
until
the magnetic cry of gulls
is turning my head;  
hovering and hollering
a call to arms
that reaches shore.

In the distance
the army of ducks are advancing,
embarking from the loch
towards their own happy ending:
a Dunkirk where
all that's waiting is
a couple bearing food.

Swarming from the water,
giving full allegiance,
standing to attention,
around their feet,
they wait
and eat.





Posted for Poetry Jam: A walk to remember