On an early April morning,
after the floods,
with the sun breaking the clouds.
You see many sights
while walking the dog through the wood,
to a place where a stream
meets a river.
From under the rocks
you hear the distinctive sound
of a mother calling her nine ducklings
not two days old
and just managing to swim
in the rivers calm current
to safety she cries,
to the other bank.

On the last April morning,
the weather breaks
and rain come tumbling down.
Different sights meet the eye
while walking the dog through the wood,
to a place where a stream
meets a river.
From under a rock
you hear the distinctive sound
of a mother calling her ducklings
now four weeks old.
Your heart misses a beat
as excitement floods your senses,
they swim with ease
through the now swollen river
your eyes quickly count, only five,
and sadness bathes over you
still scanning for the missing ducklings,
as they make it to the safety
of the other bank.

You curse life’s cruel rules
and ponder at this story
being played out in
so many different lives.  

Stay safe!