Peninsula Drive



Heavy rains — this roadside puddle
becomes a small lake,
a few days' wonder that
   must be driven 'round

But look! A trio of ducks,
drawn as though to a fixture
   on the map,
paddling happily across it!
For them, I'd stock it with minnows —
(where do you get minnows?)

   (And is my life like that, but a 
   momentary failure in the drainage
   of some life force?)

But now, see, too soon, too soon,
the lake is but a rising mist, over a dry bed,
a low cloud through which ducks weave
   (the fickle things),
      seeking a stabler pool. 

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