By: Julie Nelson
Walking my dog at lunchtime
in rain,
suddenly
from between two houses, a row
of mallards marched
across a neighbor’s lawn
single file—twelve
in all—following
the leader,
and stepped off the curb
on to a puddled street
on a mission
as my Lab sat down in the grass
to watch, her birding instincts
tempered by a steady shower
as she looked on with intention,
her whole being
invested in the procession,
her face alert, attentive even,
to what might happen
next.
She never barked. She struck
Buddha pose and stayed
completely still, her eyes
brown ponds for ducks
to splash
down in warm pools
of light
as they crossed
to safety,
unharmed.
And here was the answer
to a question I’ve been asking,
how to be kind
in an uncertain world.
Julie R. Nelson is a poet and creative writer who lives in Ann Arbor, Michigan. Her poems and stories have appeared in Cathexis Northwest Press, Critical Reads, Passenger, Passager, and East by Northeast. She is currently working on several short stories and a collection of poems.