The Ducks

The green ducks quake their crystal mirror,
upsetting time, their perfect Sunday introspection,
and, green feet dancing beneath the upset,
stage the fey soliloquies of their common play;
now beneath roving carmine minister’s bells
their green cadence happy carries through the hours;
trembling, laughing, now and now, and now.

Thanks for checking out my poem.

Did I tell you I wrote a novel? You can also donate some of your hard-earned dollars down below—that’s money to me, for free!

 

Gabriel Muoio

$1.00

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