Gathering Eggs

It was always a summer day
And I reckon I was always six
I loved going to Granny’s
It was always a holiday of sorts
The things I remember best
Rest easy there in the
Safety of a boyish mind
I loved Whiskey
Wild and boisterous
Watchful, red, loyal and always
A good companion in the upper meadow
Where we exhausted many days
He used come with me
As I searched
Usually in vain for eggs
I could never understand the ducks
Random clumps of rushes
Usually near the ghost tree
Was where they’d lay
Finding one was
The gold at the end of
My own boyish rainbow
I gathered as I found.
Oh how now I wish that I
Could gather in those days and
Nestle them together in a basket
Of tightly woven straw
But I usually search in vain
The rainbow always faded
Not always from a spring like sun
But often from a darkening cloud
Not always but sometimes when I least expect
As I wander
Half watchful, half lost
I find one
Large and white
And my first thought is
To check for life within the
Toughened shell
But most of all
I like where and when I find them