I closed my application essay for a masters
degree in writing by noting the presence of ducks
in all my stories — Pekins, Indian Runners,
Khaki Campbells. My Hawaii flock
patrolled the twenty rows of coffee trees
for beetles, snails, slugs, & centipedes.
The rest of the day they spent upended
guzzling goop from the rain-fed pond.
They all had names — Frannie, Tom
(he voted himself alpha, could count to seven,
his head swiveling from one duck to the next),
Ek & El (One & Two in Hawaiian),
Biga & Poolie June — I seldom ate one.
Because he fought with Tom, I gave Ek
to a man who watched him fly into the ocean.
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