I wrote this while living at my grand-mothers’ house in Rosemont, Quebec, Canada. It was written for Anne-Marie Bouchard, and was influenced by the mallard ducks that used to land in our pool back at my parents’ house in Edison, New Jersey, USA. Each fall, the ducks migrating south for the winter would stop in our backyard to rest, as they did in the opposite direction coming back home in the spring. I noticed that all the ducks were in pairs, as mates, and that the male never took his eyes off the female while she swam or ate, like he was protecting her and keeping an eye out for predators.

The poem was never finished because I ran out of steam. I really loved th direction and flow that this poem was going in and I think I got stuck, or maybe was distracted, and could never get in the same mood again to finish it.

L’eau qui flotte sur cette terre
Comme les oiseaux dans l’air
Un se pose sur cette marée chaude
Et puis si prêt vient l’autre

Comme l’un sur une face d’un miroir
Le prochain la surveille sans espoir
Un membre a tout faire
Et un amour pour tout plaire