Muscovy ducks
Can be big and imposing,
But truly they're gentle birds.
Their big carbuncular
Faces belie
Their golden eyes that sweetly gaze.
Splintering off in several groups,
Two or three buddies swim,
Doing their thing, then recongregate.
Huffing and hissing,
Waggling their tails,
They're actually happy to see friends.
Sometimes they tussle
In tiny disputes for dominance,
But I've never seen it get bloody.
At night they gather together, sleeping
In bushes, trees, or each other's
Warmth—all entirely precious.
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