The ribbon of ice snaking through the parkway
cracked open in the growing warmth,
enticing a flock of mallards
nurtured there in years past.
Drunken laughter resonated downstream
as the returnees celebrated on water
black like frothy Guinness.
Wobbling out after their swim, like tipsy revelers,
orange-webbed feet slid on the ice shelf,
snapping and breaking it into glassy shards.
They stood and chattered amid snow piles resembling
remains flung from emptied beverage tubs,
deciding where their party should go next.
Christel Maass lives in southeastern Wisconsin. She enjoys gardening, hiking, and exploring her beautiful home state. Christel frequently writes about nature and has been widely published in print and online.