Sitting Duck

Take aim...it's open season (This ain't no dynasty)

 

 

 

 

Sitting Duck

 

Collective eyes on the shoreline

Ripples meander unaware of who they touch

Glimmering surface reflects a doubtless moon

and fireflies abandon all hope of neon goals

 

Stone and sand meet in driftwood destinies

Autumn grips the night with postcard tendrils

Feet beneath water paddle slowly,

hiding in plain sight in the center of this liquid target

 

Alone on the wrinkles of waterlogged bed sheets

Silence finds no home here

while voices cackle and point slanderous fingers

and buoyancy is in question

 

Words fly like arrows in cultivated sentences on thin air

When what was once sacred sinks

into the stagnant reaches of heartless ink

and I wait…a sitting duck  

 

Author's Note

Thank you for reading

Reviews

[Neon]

Very intellectual piece. Imaginary's again beautiful. Nice flow of ink.

[Jack...]

Thanks so very much. Happy you enjoyed this.

[SHEEMA HUQ]

This reads like an interpretation of an ancient oriental script or something, it is classical and intelligently executed, well done Jack!

[Jack...]

Thank you so very much. I appreciate your kind words.

[Pryde Foltz]

Words fly like arrows in cultivated sentences on thin air
When what was once sacred sinks
into the stagnant reaches of heartless ink
and I wait…a sitting duck

What a wonderful flame poem. The metaphor was amazing and the message was beautiful. Loved.

[Jack...]

Thank you so very much Pryde

[SyberRose]

Everyone is a sitting duck on the internet ha...especially us poets...enjoyed Jack...Rose:)

[Jack...]

Thanks so much my sweet friend.

[Cassie]

Words fly like arrows in cultivated sentences on thin air

When what was once sacred sinks

into the stagnant reaches of heartless ink

and I wait…a sitting duck

That is good, I loved the message in it.

[Jack...]

Sunshine, thank you so much for always bringing kind comments to my eyes.

[Baby Ricochet]

Duck season? No, it's rabbit season

[Jack...]

Scwey Wabbit. Thanks so much BR. I appreciate you visiting today.

[Dye]

Have to remember to keep moving, sitting ducks are easy targets. Great write Jack.

[Jack...]

Yeah I know Dye, but some of us stupid ducks just swim at it head on. Thanks for stopping by.

[Lydia Shutter]

Something going on in Jack world this week.....the dark side of life seems to pop into every poem you write lately. The imagery in this one is stunning and the metaphor very good. Ducks.....sitting there waiting for someone to take a shot, but don't sell them short. Remember, they can fly away when they sense danger is near. "waterlogged bed sheets".....tossing and turning and sweating in the night is no way to get any rest, that's for sure. Like the duck, you have to ignore the shoreline.....or decide to leave the water. Well written, Jack. Lydi**

[Jack...]

Lydi, if I didn't know any better I would think you were telling me to get the duck out of here????

Thanks you so much my friend.

[Lydia Shutter]

LOL OMG.....no, that is not what I was saying at all, but now I am laughing...thank you.

[Rita L. Sev]

A duck may look calm on the surface, but underneath he is paddling like hell... there is always something lurking, waiting to take down magnificence. And even knowing this... on we float...

[Jack...]

Thanks so much Rita. Sometime life isn't all its quacked up to be.

[TL Boehm]

duck, duck, duck, ... GOOSE! never liked that game. too much pressure. Its a truthful write, Jack and I concur with the sentiment - we lay it all out there and we bob up and down in the water - but as animal metaphors go - if you are a duck it is in the sense that you're waterproof. Let it roll off your back - easier said than done of course -

[Jack...]

Thanks Tammy...this is it, or part of it, the rolling off my back..purging, purging, purging. I appreciate you kind remarks and your friendship always.