Rubber Ducky


The child’s eye holds no splinter, or blood
Or any monster in green, she only holds
A little shapely heart imbued with innocence.
What’s polluted with age, like a stream near a waste disposal site
Leaving organic dyes and heavy metals
To enter her pristine source.

And we can see signboards reading “NIMBY” everywhere
“Not in my back yard” it tells the onlooker.
And it seems a child holds that same board
Telling us her innocence should not be tarnished by waste.
She only has a pristine white heart that reads
Letters from alphabet books and spells words on Sesame Street
And plays peekaboo and hide and seek
As little editions of fun.

She tells her mummy and daddy that love
Is like the little rubber ducky in the bathtub
He quacks when he is squeezed and is always
As yellow as a big lovable canary bird on TV.
And she can always see large eyes gazing at her, with awe and affection.
A small yellow toy giving her rapturous joy.

And she will always be a little ducky
In the palms of mummy and daddy, a little girl
Who will grow up to learn that little girls
Swim to the incoming tide, like ducks are to water
When little boys become stinging bumble bees
Chasing them through high school parking lots.

And love is a little playdate, on a badly lighted
Parking lot, behind the gym or in a drive-through
When she loses the little duckling in her.
And learning to swim, is a lot harder and painful
Than she ever thought. Still love was bright and yellow
And swam inside her eyes, and she found her little feet floating a little
As love was squeezed out of her – a little bittersweet
Sentimental, with a touch of regret.

And she will remember that night – Insentient
A comedy of errors, a little crude, even edgy
And ending sooner than she ever dreamt of.

And when all was over
Memories of her childhood fell like earthbound meteors…….

How beautiful was the rubber ducky in the bathtub?
How beautiful was the little ducky
Who flung towards her parents’ arms?
How beautiful was a pecky first kiss to a boy from eighth grade?
How beautiful were her webbed feet
Waddling towards the water’s edge?

Yet how awful was paddling against the tide
Learning how to swim…..

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.