Norm gets me a little wet
Leaping up from his swim in the pond.
Huffing and panting, he greets me
On the carpet of grass and clover.
He was born to swim.
Every day I see him out there
Bathing, diving; I watch and wave,
Arrested by his beauty.
His downy, feathery breast and head,
Trickling water as he fluffs his crest,
Gleams; shaking off the excess drops,
He beats his wings so close to me.
His red leather mask rings
Around his eyes' amber irises;
They catch the sun when he tilts his head,
As do his iridescent wings.
A single thought, bacterium-sized,
But then pride: he's so comfortable
With me; and thankfulness: he rests
In the bush beneath my window.
A place for my poems 