Duck Blind (verse)

We all are
even the children.

They see what fills their 
questionnaires:
egrets, tides, marshland, mud.

Hard by, commuters pay their tolls
then bridge the Pacific Flyway undistracted.

The students run the old salt pond levy, 
embody bird migrations, 
human predations on the Bay, 
habitats lost, 
the tenuous hope of promised restorations. 

Behind us rots 
a shack built by European men 
to hide in overnight, 

whose single shot, 
come dawn, 
could lift ten thousand pair 
of migrant Scoter, 
Bufflehead, 
Merganser, 
Scaup. 

Across the slough 
two homebody mallards swill saline 
unremarked, 
their nonchalance deceptive, surely. 

In neighboring ponds this designated
refuge accommodates yet-extant hides. 

And the season still 
has two cold months to run. 

(Written on the occasion of a third grade field trip to the Don Edwards San Francisco Bay National Wildlife Refuge.)
1 response
Simon, I love the movement of this one, as the poem helps us chart our own blindnesses. Beautiful, that list right in the middle of the varieties of duck: Scoter, Bufflehead, Merganser, Scaup. What words! As glittering and real as the ducks they signify. By the end, I feel the fragility of all of these creatures' existence, and yet also an enormous thankfulness for those two ducks swilling (argh) saline. And, in another emotional turn, I feel a sense of sadness about the way I'm one of the people flying past in my car; I'm even one of the men in the duck blind waiting for that first shot. A very rich poem indeed. Each reading yields another meaning. Thank you!!