![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/56019e_71669dc861eb4b86bb42b15c796d3c69~mv2.png/v1/fill/w_49,h_49,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,blur_2,enc_auto/56019e_71669dc861eb4b86bb42b15c796d3c69~mv2.png)
I looked out at the half frozen lake.
How lovely to be here without you:
no stones or pinecones breaking the crust of ice
and disturbing the fish.
I had time and hands
to look up the name of the black duck
with the white beak and belly:
The tufted duck.
I turned back to the path.
No squeals, no mumbled half remembered songs
from the preschool down the road.
How awful to be here without you.