The smooth rustle, and a pointer froze sensitively
Oh, shot, just lucky again, not me.
night is falling over the lake and the ducks fly
grown Fat, duck in the autumn at a great price.
autumn Again, whirled carousel tunes.
to Hunt with the wind hitch a ride.
And I'll play if I'm still useful for something
And I will sing for you if I'm on something good.
I remember, long ago taught me my father and mother.
to Cure-to heal, to love,
to walk-so to Walk, shoot-so to shoot.
But the ducks are flying high,
Fly-so fly, I'll wave.
Rosenbaum Alexander
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#poetry