A mallard duck takes flight into the tarnished sky,
It’s breath visible as it exhales the brisk air.
The bird glides through the air like the falling white oak leaves around it,
Twisting and bending to Mother Nature’s orchestra.
It sails in search of food for its family,
Scanning the ambiance of the Georgia pond.
A beaver household grubs on a freshly killed bream,
Coyotes howl in the distance as they return to their kin.
The duck views the world encompassing it,
Scanning the frigid water beneath.
There, a fish!
The mallard’s tail feathers tingle with excitement.
Oh! How happy mother and son will be...
Then, crack!
A hunter and his father bag up their prize,
And return home.
The coyotes take refuge in their cave,
The beavers shelter in their den,
The pond, silent.
Mother duck, now widow duck,
Cuddles her son as she awaits her husband.
Father duck will not return to his lover,
But everything will be okay.
The coyotes will howl once again,
The hunter will enjoy a meal with its family,
The beavers will hunt more fish,
The frogs will croak again,
The pond will continue to flourish with life,
And the Sun will rise another day.