Ducks

A true story!
Once upon a time, in the poorest part of town
where thieves, smugglers and illegals hung out
was a market, albeit a very scruffy one
made from sun-frazzled tarpaulin lean-tos
and shelters put together with cans, scrap metal, sacking and bent bicycle wheels.
In and from this place
every sort of item and service imaginable, legal and un
was available –for a price.

In the livestock section, hard to bear conditions were no surprise
as the folk themselves were fortunate if bread-line:
coloured birds, monkeys, goats, puppies, turkeys, tortoises, chickens, donkeys
in tiny makeshift pens or stuffed in crates and boxes
in all probability no worse than where they came from.

We were shopping for geese and guinea fowl.
Why not some ducks too? I will buy you one!

So in due course,
after some of the fowl escaped their ankle bonds
and, in a twinkle were out of the truck and loppiting about on the saggy rooftops
amidst an uproar – probably partly pre-planned
as not all the birds could be captured, so would have summarily ended
in someone’s cooking pot.

Eventually we extricated ourselves and the remaining feathered ones
beating a thankful retreat to your little green oasis
in the dusty wilderness behind the rubbish dumps.

On release, the remaining guinea fowl ran off under the fruit trees
the geese marched away in dignified convoy
as if they had never been prisoners, victims, abused or neglected.
The ducks were the last to be unfettered - begrimed, lack-lustre and scrawny;
They got up, shook themselves, looked around and headed, one after the other,
straight for the new little pond hastily excavated for their benefit
escorted courteously, each in turn, by the glossy resident cockerel
- as if he knew.

When they got to the bank and dipped in their toes
never in my days had I witnessed such a marvel:
how they dabbled, ducking their ducky heads right into the water
then ventured fully in, to preen and cleanse themselves for first time ever. Ah!
Though a duck does not have an expression
their whole body, every movement spoke of utter joy.
Oh! If only we could have bought the lot.

Grandchildren, farm-hands, all of us gawped with wonder.
How creatures deprived life-long of their natural element
their liberty and dignity
can rebound, bounce back unbelievably.
How new worlds can be born in a moment
out of the dregs of the old.