augury doggerel

Friday, April 26, 2002


This morning after five, ducks flew over our home on their way to doing something only ducks do at five in the morning. There were at least three of them, by the sound of the conversation, and they were in a hurry. But no rooster crowed.

I know there�s a rooster across the street because I have heard him a few times, though only on late weekends, and never early, when I�m getting up for work. Once or twice he�s been up in time to give me a couple of halfhearted ku-ku-ri-kus when I was heading for my bus, but I had the impression he did it from bed, maybe just leaning out a window. His voice had that pre-coffee sound.

I have been wondering whether he�s someone�s pet. I picture him in a child�s bed, burying his comb into a shared pillow and stretching under the blankets. Someone might chuck him under the beak and stroke his tail feathers. He might wear thick socks and nibble crackers.


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