Feeding the ducks

He stood alone by the lake,
an old man, in a coat
that had seen better days ten years ago.
Carefully crumbling bread
that might have done him some good,
he threw it to the cacophony
of ducks squabbling in the water.
"Come on my beauties" he said
"no pushing and shoving, now".
Gently he threw some to the shy ones
pattering on the edge of the mob.
Then turning away he called an old black dog
with a grey muzzle and arthritic legs.
"That's it for today" he said
"All the excitement's done now".
And together they walked slowly
towards the gate.