remembering the ducks

I think about a duck pond
which might be across street from
where
my grandparents lived

a place we were allowed to look at from
afar

or am I thinking of what’s called
the Children’s Lake
in a small
like mine
town
that like
across the street had
ducks
and geese that had better scurry as
folks drive through

and the ducks
and geese there have
in fact
their own speeding limit

I don’t know
the ducks are pretty
and
sometimes seem to me
too fragile
as if God forgot to give them
armor
more than the chemicals that
keep them floating

I don’t know
maybe the chemicals are enough
as are
memories
that come to the surface
and
sometimes have ducks floating
upon them

c l couch


photo by Haberdoedas II on Unsplash