The Quack’s Meow

Scattered and straddling, staring and

starving, they hope to catch from uneven

rocks, sans boating, the floating flocks, but

 

wary of concreted accompaniment, fowls

avoid foul purring which preys and prays for

their mustard-apricot shaded entree, they

 

counter and flaunt with

gandering chevaliers, like

feathered pond cows, grazing

graveled feed; ignoring no

trespass, they tread drenched and

soar proud, fearlessly gliding, but

 

glide impaired vultures sorely imagine

succulent flight, in air, the heirs of

wet whetted night, their composing color the

stray packs admire, it passes from

pavement to trickling path, eluding

ill-tempered desire, so

 

scattered and straddling uneven

stacks, they remain staring and

starving and hoping.

 

-in honor of Morningside Park

Ras Dia, USA