The Duck’s Question

A walking path
The sun goes down
Some neon lights
A distant town

A crunching sound
Beneath my feet
A lonely duck
The air is sweet

Reflecting on
The water’s task
I see the duck
And hear it ask

Why is it so
And ever so
That all of you
In circles go?

A walking path
A summer sweat
And I have got
No answers

Yet

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

2 thoughts on “The Duck’s Question”

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