Said the chicken, “It will sicken you to learn that I
Will be sliced, and stuffed with rice, and put into a pie.
Such a fate I’d really hate, it makes me want to cry.
I must shape a quick escape. Can you teach me to fly?”

Said the duck, “You’re out of luck, for they have clipped my wing.
I cannot help you a lot, for flying’s not my thing.
You must find some other kind of help, for I’ve no more.”

Said the chicken to the duck, “Then, since we’re by the shore,
Will you try, if you can’t fly, to teach me how to swim?”

Said the duck, “I think you’re stuck. The chance of that is slim.
For you do not have webbed feet, nor do you have an oil
Gland to let you float when wet. No, you must stay on soil.”

Said the chicken, “I must quicken my attempt to flee.
Yonder comes some halfwit with a hatchet, don’t you see?
I won’t let them take me just to bake me in a pie,
But unless you help, I guess we both will surely die.”

Said the duck, “I like your pluck! Now that’s the sort of thing
You have got to have a lot of, if you would take wing.”
Said the duck, “You see that truck that’s sitting in the drive?
If we hide somewhere inside, we might get out alive.”

Said the chicken, “What a slick and daring plan have you!
I will go with you and so now tell me what to do.”

Said the duck, “So don’t you cluck and cackle, but now follow
After me, for there I see a sort of empty hollow
In the back beside a stack of boards and vinyl siding.
Just walk straight on past the gate and soon we will be riding
In the truck, with any luck, to find a way to freedom
Far beyond this tiny pond. I think we can mislead `em.”

Said the chicken, “That’s a trick and no two ways about it.
Would you bet it’s leaving yet? I really rather doubt it.”

Said the duck, “Don’t be a schmuck and waste my time nitpickin’.
Do you want to fly this coop or are you just too chicken?
‘Slick and daring?’ You’re not caring if they come and sell me!
If you’ve got a better plot, I wish that you would tell me.”

Said the chicken, “I can’t pick another course of action
Better than your daring plan, not even by a fraction.
I’m just nervous. If they serve us roasted for their dinner—
Such an end, who’d comprehend? I think your plan’s a winner.”

Said the duck, “Get in the truck and no more nervous flitting.
Find a space to hide someplace; it’s time that we were getting
Out of here, so have no fear, just get down under cover.
When it’s dark, we’ll disembark. Our worries will be over.”

So the chicken tried this trick, and soon she was in hiding
In the truck, next to the duck, who said, “We’ll soon be riding
Into town, so keep it down, lest someone overhear us.
If we stay here tucked away, then no one will come near us.”

When the truck began to buck, which made the windows rattle,
Said the duck, “I think this truck was meant for hauling cattle.
They don’t mind the bump and grind encountered on the roadway,
For a bird, though, it’s unheard of. I don’t like this, no way.”

Said the chicken, “Are you thick and mentally retarded?
This whole spree was your idea, that is why I started
Off with you, to find a new place for securer living.
Does a bump cause you to jump and start to have misgiving?”

Said the duck, “See all the muck that’s sloshing ‘round the back?
Smell it, too—it’s like a zoo, and makes me cough and hack.
I’ll be hurtin’, that’s for certain, if we’re here much longer.
Should we stay, or fly away? I can’t tell which is wronger.”

Said the chicken, “Let’s just stick another single minute
To our plan before we can it. We might yet just win it.
You can’t fly, so don’t deny there’s no way we can leave.
We’ll be fine, at least ‘til nine, I truly do believe.”

Said the duck, “We could have snuck out through the woods in back of
The old farm, without much harm. It’s harder to keep track of
What goes on behind the pond, right where the woods are thickest.
Had I thought, it would have got us out of there the quickest.”

Said the chicken, “I’ve been stricken by a novel notion.
We’re not far from where a car can drive across the ocean
On a bridge that spans a ridge upon the water’s edge.
If we tried to jump outside, we’d land right by a hedge.
We could hide somewhere beside it ‘til we found a gutter.
Maybe I can’t truly fly, but I at least can flutter.
I’m sure you can flutter, too, and if so we can bail
Out of here. The bridge is near—together we’ll not fail.”

Said the duck, “I cannot shuck a feeling of disaster
As we try to further fly away from our old master.
What’s our plan to find a land where we can live at peace?”

Said the chicken, “Clock’s a-tickin’. Just observe the geese
As they fly, up in the sky, off to their summer quarters.
Where they dwell is somewhere well beyond these petty borders.
Once behind them, we will find them if we follow after
To their land, where life is grand, and filled with love and laughter.
Time to jump—let’s blow this dump, and put our plan in motion.”

So the two jumped out, and threw themselves into the ocean
By its edge: they missed the hedge, and landed in the water.
That’s because they found it was much nearer than they thought ‘er.
Once ashore, they sought a more familiar landmark
And found the hedge beneath a ledge which led them to a park.

Said the duck, “I think I struck my ankle on a rock
When I fell, which made it swell, and now my foot’s in shock.
I can’t walk or fly, and balk at recklessly proceeding.
I must stay, at least today, here ‘til I’ve stopped the bleeding.”

Said the chicken, “Just try lickin’ it to ease the pain
While I talk. You need not walk; I think I hear a train
Northward bound, that comes through town, and makes a whistle stop,
And I say we stow away, and we can ride on top
Or inside, if we can slide into an open car—
There, we’ll rest, and be their guest, and we can go quite far.”

Said the duck, “A hockey puck could not be that much bigger
Than my foot, and all the soot from that train just might trigger
Some disease in me, so please, don’t be in such a hurry!”

Said the chicken, “Why the dickens do you always worry?
There inside the train it’s wide and spacious, and rides smooth.
Once away, you’ll find the sway is gentle, and will soothe
Your poor foot, and no dark soot will foul our clean partition.
You’ll not choke on engine smoke. Each car is air-conditioned.
There’s no smoke, and that’s no joke. The engine is a Diesel.
Don’t complain—let’s board the train, and don’t you try to weasel
Out of it, or you can sit, and suffer needless pain.
Why not ride? It’s like a glide. You’ve everything to gain.”

Said the duck, “I’ll have to tuck my wing around your shoulder
As I limp. My foot’s a blimp, and heavy as a boulder.”

Said the chicken, “You’re a brick, and now let’s see about
Finding room ere we resume our journey, and move out.
Put some pep into your step, and I will help you stumble
Toward the train. Don’t mind the pain: I’ll make sure you don’t tumble.”

Once aboard, they slept and snored for nearly fourteen hours.
They awoke when someone spoke: “Looks like we’ll have some showers.”

“Who said that?” the chicken spat, then saw it was a goose
Who sat quailing on the railing of the train’s caboose.

Said the goose, “What’s your excuse for such uncivil manners?”

Said the duck, “We’ve had bad luck, and aren’t the best of planners.
While on board, we can’t afford a first-class ticket berth:
Though they’re nice, we found the price is more than we are worth.
Here, it’s free, as you can see; no one collects your ticket.
For this space we had to race—I’m glad that we could pick it.
Pardon, friend, let us amend, and please forgive our gaffe.
For it’s fair that we should share what little space we have.”

Said the goose, “You’ve made good use of limited resources.
Riding free—well, I can see it sure beats riding horses.
I’m inclined to now combine your path and mine together
To new ground. Where are you bound to, in this rainy weather?”

Said the chicken, “We’ve been stickin’ to no preset plan,
But were looking for a booking to that northern land
Where you geese now live in peace, for we would like to go.
We’ll not hide we need a guide. Where is it, do you know?”

Said the goose, “Beyond these spruce and fir trees, to the north
Lies the land to which you plan to boldly venture forth
On a plain; by wing or train, from here a good day’s travel.
If you walk, there’s beds of chalk and lots of sharp-edged gravel
You must cross, and there’s no moss to soothe your aching feet.
If you ride, and stay inside, the journey you’ll complete
In less time than if you climb among the rocks and gravel.
If you please, just rest at ease and let your cares unravel.”

Said the duck, “I’m no Canuck, and don’t know where we’re bound.
Does this train go to that plain that you all live around?”

Said the goose, “It goes to Moosejaw, which is not real far
From our lake; it wouldn’t take us long to go by car.
Now by air, we could be there in minutes, and not hours.
We could make it to the lake just with our soaring powers.”

Said the duck, “Don’t run amok in taking to the air.
We don’t fly: my friend and I cannot remain up there.
For this spring, they clipped my wing and I’m not one who soars,
And my friend is just a hen who mostly stays indoors.”

Said the goose, “That’s quite abstruse, and hard to comprehend:
I’ve not heard of any bird, not either duck or hen
With no wings—they are the things that lift us from the earth.
You can fly if you will try for all that you are worth.”

Said the chicken, “It’s not clickin’ in my brain just how
I’m to fly, and I won’t try to take it up just now.”

Said the goose, “You must let loose of all your preconceptions.
Say you can, for that’s the plan. It works without exceptions.
We’ve a way to go today until we reach the station:
While we wait, just meditate upon a new sensation.
Think of flight, for it’s your right to travel through the air.
You’re a bird—has it occurred to you to boldly dare
To take wing? You could be king or queen of all you see,
As you fly up in the sky above the tallest tree.
Concentrate; it’s not too late to start to learn to fly.
Stretch each wing, and you will sing as you ascend on high.
Flap them both, for I am loath to see you ever grounded.
Once up there, this won’t compare, for there you are surrounded
By the breeze, that wafts through trees, and carries you along;
In that state you’ll feel so great, like nothing can go wrong.”

Said the duck, “I now can chuck my feeling of self-pity:
I can feel my pinions healed, and boy, do they look pretty!
I’d been clipped, and not equipped for flight to be resuming.
Plumes I lacked—to grow them back is always time-consuming.”

Said the chicken, “Something’s flickin’ in my head at last:
Memories of flights through trees emerging from the past,
Taking flight both day and night, by solar light and lunar;
If I’d known I once had flown I would have tried it sooner.”

Said the goose, “You’re no recluse; you always had the skill,
When you find you have the mind, then you can fly at will.
You’ll proceed to fly with speed when we arrive in town,
For I say there is no way to keep a good bird down.”

Thus these three spoke merrily, and when they reached the station,
They saw high up in the sky a V-shaped geese formation.
Said the goose, “Turn on the juice, and put your wings in gear;
Keep that flight within your sight—we’re flying out of here.
It’s not far from where we are to reach our private lake,
So don’t stray; if we delay, it would be a mistake.”

Said the chicken, “I’m now kickin’ it into high gear;
I’m a nut to try this but I’ll make it, never fear.
Who’d have thought I could have got away from that old farm
And arrive up here alive? It worked just like a charm.”

Said the duck, “I now can suck that chilly northern air
In my mouth, unlike the south: it’s muggier back there.
What a night for taking flight; I feel I’ve been reborn.
I could stay up half a day, from evening until morn.”

So they flew into the blue, discovering en route
That the skill to fly at will was suddenly made moot
If the height at which the flight occurred was not enough
To clear trees; they found the breeze would steer one into stuff.

Now the duck and goose had luck in steering with their wings,
But the chicken was not quick enough, and got some stings
From a branch. She tried to stanch the wound, which made her fall,
And as she fell, began to yell, “I think I’ve seen it all!”

Her descent made quite a dent, and squashed a pile of leaves.
Though unhurt, she rolled in dirt, and muddied up her sleeves.
She sat dazed, and slowly gazed around her ‘til the twain
Came to see, perhaps, if she was in some kind of pain.

Said the chicken, “I’m a hick, and haven’t studied much.
I feel guilt—I’m just not built for swoops and dives and such.
I’m a dumpy, fat and frumpy plain Rhode Island Red;
I can’t clear the forest here. You two go on ahead.”

Said the goose, “That’s no excuse: it’s just a grove of trees.
They soon end, and don’t extend much farther, if you please.
Be a sport, and we’ll escort you to the other side.
Will you quit, or stay with it? For now you must decide.”

Said the duck, “When I was stuck, you helped me carry on.
I was hurtin’, that’s for certain; now the pain is gone.
Let me do the same for you, and you will soon recover,
For, my friend, we’re near the end: our trip is almost over.”

Said the chicken, “What’s that ticklin’ underneath my feet?
We have traveled past the gravel—ahh, the grass feels sweet!
I had thought we would be caught upon some rocky plain
With no moss to walk across; I could not stand the pain.”

Said the goose, “I’m here to boost you onward to our goal;
I can take you to the lake—it’s just beyond that knoll.
If you need to rest and feed, then we can wait a while.
It’s not far from where we are, another half a mile.”

Said the chicken, “Such rollickin’ good times should not end;
I’m so glad that I have had you each as my good friend.
Let’s not stop, but reach the top of yonder grassy knoll
Then press on to what’s beyond—we’re almost to our goal.”

So the three went on to see what lay beyond the trees
Which would take them to the lake; now they could rest at ease.
None gave chase—they found the place was filled with birds galore.
All was well; they chose to dwell upon the southern shore.
Though in fall, they left it all and went south for the winter,
Yet each spring, they’d always bring themselves back to re-enter
This fair land, where life was grand, and filled with love and laughter.
On the beach, they lived there each one happily thereafter.