Laughing

I saw a laughing club in a park, once.

People forced laughs from their belly,

Their guffaws resounding throughout the park

And we who watched couldn’t help but giggle at them 

From across the pond.

Today in another park I watched two boys

Run down the path, 

The ducks plop into the water

As the boys draw near

The boys pick up pebbles, tossing them

(“Not at the birds!” the adult accompanying them warns.)

into the water.

From all corners of the pond the ducks gather

Around the boys, expecting more than pebbles. 

It’s a joke is it? Turn these stones into seeds? 

(Bread not allowed).

The boys get bored and leave, stuffing pebbles

Into their sweatshirt pockets.

At one time I learned the sounds that each duck makes, 

The American Wigeon sounds like a squeaky toy duck.

The Wood duck has a rising shriek.

Who can forget the mallard’s honk?

Two female mallards 

Quack back and forth like an argument

Yes. No. Yes. No. Yes. No.

In the rhododendron garden 

I watch ducks rear up in the water,

Swish their tales, 

Duck in the water, pop out again

Water streaming from their backs.

And they laugh, great belly laughs, 

As if to outdo one another.