Squawking Lake

The squawking lake

birthed  majestic

feathered ducklings.

Protected and pampered

they spent their

days in a sapphire Eden.

But deception lurked

along the lake’s shores.

The lake was not paradise.

It was a water farm

where harvest meant death.

The duckling’s destiny

was the oil of a boiling pot.

Pastoral tranquility melted

into the noise of a city market

where the ducklings were hung

as trophies to sate human’s

appetite for the taste of duck soup.

©Susie Clevenger 2011

Prompt: Mag 87