Duck Lake

The duck beside the lake stands on tiptoe lifts its head flaps its wings in the air. From each of its feathers drop by drop shining pearls scatter onto the dry meadow. It lingers a moment, then leaps again once more into the arms of the water. I stand beside you proud look: on my body, at the tip of every strand of my hair, - in the mouth of my oyster – bead by bead pearls shine from your water ...