Franklin

It finally happened, and I
Have felt the most singular joy:
Franklin, the largest of our ducks,
And I think the father of most of them,
Ate blueberries out of my hand!

Our younger ducks are still skittish,
So I simply toss them berries;
But Franklin's courageous and comfortable,
He doesn't fear the touch of this ape.
And if ever I feared the bill of a duck,
Truth reveals that completely baseless.
Franklin is sweet beyond compare:
It feels like rounded tongs when he nibbles,
Gently tickling my palms for fruit.

And not just that, though that's sublime,
He even let me pet his breast!
He held himself with the dignity
Of a wild animal, yet serenely,
Familiarly he accepted my touch.
With the backs of my first two fingers 
I softly stroked his dappled breast.

Franklin gives his mouth a lick
And holds his head up while I pet him.
I look into his golden eyes,
At his leathery, red face,
The equal streaks of black and white
Which course atop his fluffy head
And down his neck; he's so plush!

I thank him for allowing me
To feel the soft touch of his down.
He chuffs as if to thank me in turn
For the blueberries. He is content.
What an incredible creature I'm blessed
To have as a neighbor purely by chance,
This muscovy duck Franklin!