Friday, February 27, 2015

the sitting duck



The sitting duck
The potshots throw
No quacking sound
The elegant silence

The pond has no water
The potholes drain it out
The sitting duck
Silently stares at it

The sun hot and humid
Raining lights of golden colours
The sitting duck
Alone and waiting

The sky never turns cloudy
The sun smiles hot and sweaty
The hot wind blowing along
Never a word is spoken

The sitting duck
The potshots throw
The muddy ground
No quacking sound


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