That Last Damn' Duck Poem by Tony Jolley

Your voice wore a ‘different dress’ tonight,
One that didn’t sound quite right –
A tender pale-tone shade of blue
That couldn’t keep the tears from shining through.

Prosaics and pleasantries – a thin disguise
Insufficient to hide your water-welled eyes:
Eyes invisible on the end of a phone
Yet not to the one by whom you’re known.

One who cannot bear the thought
Of not being where he knows he ought.

One whose spirit, tho’ with two-left-feet,
Would dance the miles your toes to meet.

One who’s simply marking time…
Until that last damn’ duck’s in line.