The Wild Duck

Twilight. Red in the West. Dimness. A glow on the wood. The teams plod home to rest. The wild duck come to glean. O souls not understood, What a wild cry in the pool; What things have the farm ducks seen That they cry so--huddle and cry? Only the soul that goes. Eager. Eager. Flying. Over the globe of the moon, Over the wood that glows. Wings linked. Necks a-strain, A rush and a wild crying.

A cry of the long pain In the reeds of a steel lagoon, In a land that no man knows.