MIKE COOPER

Down on duck duty

                                                                The best time to be a teacher

                                                                is after lunch

                                                                in that rare hush

                                                                when their minds turn to the task

                                                                and yours turns to vapour

                                                                seeps through the classroom walls, and trickles down outside

 

                                                                                       on the river

                                                                you can stop paddling

                                                                let the current carry the canoe

                                                                and trail your hand in the water

 

                                                                                       from the bank

                                                                those great ungainly gums

                                                                stretch out their lower limbs

                                                                                       only their upper leaves stir

                                                                where half-concealed a flock of lorikeets

                                                                feed and squabble in the heat

                                                                                       at length a zephyr comes

                                                                                       it soothes

                                                                                       it brings you snatches of a boating song

 

                                                                Down the aisles you glide,

                                                                murmuring "my -- lovely -- little -- ducklings."

                                                                Although they are 12 and mostly 13

                                                                they seem happy to pretend.

 

                                                                Here and there

                                                                as the rhythm requires

                                                                you pat one on the crown.

                                                                Behind your back you hear a whisper,

                                                                "Sir, you missed me!"

                                                                When you turn, you find Amelia

                                                                almost in dismay.

                                                                "You missed mine," she indicates

                                                                and ducks her downy head.

 

 

 

Mike Cooper was born in Tasmania in 1939.