The Call Of The Ducks
While out walking with Rusty and Pepper one night,
I heard a loud Quack! Quack! coming from a flight
of ducks low overhead in the chilly nighttime sky.
“Right! Fly south, you little sissies. Leave! Goodbye.”
Migrating south, these feathery little beggars once
again were thinking of Man “What a dunce!
He stays here all during the coming frozen weather,
when we know heading south is so much better!”
I looked skyward after again hearing Quack! Quack!
“I hope you all get sunburned and don’t ever come back!”
Splat! Splat! I was getting bombed by that flock of ducks.
Suddenly I realized this was more than just my bad luck.
Ducks, bored on intercontinental flights, play this game.
Quack to make Man look up…bombs away! This same
game has been played for millennia. This sneaky bunch
use Man as targets…payback for ducks eaten as lunch!
So whenever you hear ducks quacking overhead in flight,
be prepared to duck under cover ‘til they’re out of sight!
Harry Edward Gilleland 11.02.02