Long neck
Not some beer bottle
But a soft waddle
As his beak
Pecks and plucks
Roots, and grassy stuff
To munch

Black eyes
With a white chin
And a face
That goes
From black
To white
And back again

Feathers folded in
Light brown
Gray and fading
Flutter nervously
When he sees me
Approaching

Beautiful, distracting
Extracting me from my
Deep reflections
And ancient sorrows

I watch web feet
Walk into that small sea
And see a water stream
Follow him
As he swims
Away