The Pollyanna Principle

A new poem by Rory Waterman.

A duck swims on the pond of the Retiro Park in downtown Madrid on August 28, 2018. - 'Parque del Buen Retiro' (literally "Park of the Pleasant Retreat"), or commonly 'El Retiro' is one of the largest parks in the city of Madrid. The park belonged to the Spanish Monarchy until the late 19th century, when it became a public park. (Photo by GABRIEL BOUYS / AFP) (Photo credit should read GABRIEL BOUYS/AFP via Getty Images)

The runway ran its barren mile of asphalt
then gave where a gravel pit had stolen the end:
a swan sailed like a model, bank to bank
then halfway back again,

and water boatmen stop-started at the edge.
Two mallards winged across, wheeled over the reeds,
engaged their stubby-footed landing gear,
and yapped for scraps or seed

we hadn’t brought. There was little else round there
but darkening sky, then the hungry alarm of thunder.
She nodded at our dot of car – “Shall we?” –
then marched downrange. I always followed her.