• Hugh Loxdale

Coots on the Saale

Coots in their dark black suits

drift up and down the fast

flowing river in the rain.

Never once do they complain

at the vagaries of the weather

or their lot. But rather, accept their fate,

and, like corks, bob up and down,

hence move in two planes,

despite the intensity of the pressing


I admire the Coot, a bird of courageous

mould: it takes more than a thorough

downpour to make them less than


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