A STRANGE THING IN THE RAIN.

We were driving along in the cold heavy rain,
And there on the road, you’ll think I’m insane,
A bright yellow rubber ducky, poor little thing,
A sad tear to my surprised eye it did bring.

Poor rubber ducky, what were you doing out there?
Did no one love you at all, no one really care?
It’s not nice to flounder in a puddle in the pouring rain
In the middle of the road, would he ever be the same again?

How many times did a car run over him, make him squeak,
I wonder if at any time he tried hard to even speak.
Would he ever be the same, that poor rubber ducky,
If he ever survived at all he really would be very lucky.

We drove past later that day, but he was not there,
Did some one stop and take him home with care?
Or was he so squashed by all the traffic that day
That he just was flattened and washed right away?

M Ann Margetson © November 9, 2000
2000/982Ducky
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