Little brown ducks all sitting in a line

On the edge of the pond, counted nine

Two alone were cleaning themselves

The seven others were basking well



In a bright sun providing all of the light

They needed to soak up to feel just right

I watched carefully - then gazed at the dog

Hoping she didn't see them down by the bog



Luckily, she was busy on the other side of walk

Running after squirrels - more fun cuz they balk

When she finally gave up and looked over at me

I threw the ball far ahead so she'd get out of trees



She then took off after it like a bat straight out of hell

Leaving all nine of those ducks behind, doing well

So glad was I she never saw a single one of the line

Leaving all those ducks together, as a group of nine



- Tristram



(c) Christopher W. Thomas

9:49pm Mon. July 6th, 1998