A breeze of January's spring
blows, pregnant with warmth,
onto the backs of two men
and many ducks.
Perforated metal tubes
stand under a side-lit tree.
One has a rubber cap on top,
both have plasted ringed bottoms.
They rest in whirly concrete,
with a tall electrical switch
mounted on a metal twig.
Only slightly distant lights
seep out onto this,
and brighter onto the cars
that drive loudly behind.