Two ducks swim by my window,

and I wonder do they love each other,

or even know that love exists,

and I wonder what it is that keeps their feathered lives

so bound

that every day they go from shore to shore

together,

so quiet and serene.

And I see their tiny eyes

looking straight ahead

as they swim by

and I wonder do they dream

of better days

living on this pond we share,

unaware of me

sitting in this chair

with dreams of what could be.

Each day, when they go by,

sometimes through ripples,

sometimes the water is a mirror

and they’re swimming through the sky,

or so it seems to me in my busy mind,

loving how they live their lives

just floating by.