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My Mom tells stories:
"Years before you were born
Your father took me duck hunting.
I asked 'How do you tell ducks from geese?'
He got all serious, the way he did when he taught
And he said 'The geese flap their wings slowly, like this.'"
She put her arms out and flapped them a couple times a second,
ba-woosh, ba-woosh
"'while the ducks flap quickly, like this.'"
She jerked her arms up and down frantically
"Still with that solemn
Science Teacher's face he had.
I giggled. I laughed at him. I couldn't help it.
He was mad at me, for a little while."

A dreary day, gray, the road seems endless
But there's the first rain of the season
And a line of waterfowl,
A scratch sketched in the cloudy sky,
Flying north, promise of the coming Spring.
Their wings go FlkFlkFlkFlkFlkFlk.
Thanks, Dad.


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