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Little house on the water
I come here to reflect on my mind,
just completely the opposite of this view.
What are those ducks thinking about?
Skimming across the smooth dark shadows.
So calm that they don't care I’m here.
The man up there, looking directly down at me.
Today he’s full, tomorrow he's not.
Do you think he knows why I'm here?
Life was a mess and everyone was gone.
I’m left alone but the ducks allowed my hospitality.
I'll feed them tonight, tomorrow, and the next day,
to thank them of course.
I haven't set foot in that small white building in a while.
Not sure what could be in there.
Could be full of spiders and a bunch of outsiders.
It could be a strange old man,
He separates himself but he’s protected by the moon.
It's getting late, I should get back home,
to my little white house.
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This is an Ekphrastic poem type