this is a portrait of a painter painting  a duck,
and as an honest man, i must disclaim
i am no painter, no wordsmith, not even a back-alley beautician
or smoker drawing letters in the air.
i'm a man, a not short nor tall nor distinctive in any other way
utterly invisible. however, as an honest man, i need to say
you are the sole, indescribable, incredible wonder of this park.


you're tall, i think, slim like the long-stemmed brushes you balance between your fingers,
and i think i hear you sing
as you paint that duck, that undistinctive, ordinary,
incredibly lucky duck.
i don't think it knows how lucky it is to have your gaze,
to be captured, immortalized, in your clever fingers.
it quacks off-beat and without thought, and i think,
"for shame, duck, bad on you"
because even someone as naturally invisible as me
knows when to appreciate a spotlight.