Mira N Mataric

 Memories of Childhood

Lucky Duck, Lucky Duck where are you?

I have not seen you since childhood

in the backyard of my grandma’s home

I liked to watch the way you walked

waddling from side to side across the yard.

It was so cute I visited you every day

after coming from school.

 

One day when I came you were not there

I rushed into the house yelling Baka

Baka, Baka, my duck is missing.

Do not worry, my child,

he is not missing.

 

He was with us for dinner last night,

in the soup and roast you ate.

 

Only now I understand,

I was the lucky duck.

Baka does not have ducks now

she has changed to rabbits.

On the table, it all looks the same.

 

 

A Real Lucky Duck

I was a real lucky duck

on the afternoon

when I ducked

to avoid being struck

by a low hanging limb

and not knocked down.

 

I was a lucky duck

on the day I fell off the curb

and landed with my knees

on my big soft purse.

 

I was a true lucky duck

when mom made my brother

and me hide under the bed

as soldiers went house to house

collecting people to slaughter

 and throw into

the powerful Blue Danube.  

 

I have been a lucky duck

many times in life

but never considered

myself to be lucky

except,

I am still alive.