Love takes us to the duck pond on a summer
day. All is serene beauty and we contentedly
feed the birds. But what subsurface creature
is stirring in the muddy shallows?

Have you ever seen ducks when their sexual
ratio is out of whack? The atrocities the
mallards deliver on their females? You pity
the ducks, but you fear the huge, bullying
geese. They frighten the ducks and hiss
fearlessly at you. Angrily squawking,
protecting their turf, they drive you to the
other side of the pond. Never mind the geese.
They're mere brutes.

The real danger never speaks, circling in
systematic ellipses atop the placid waters.
Those black, emotionless faces watch,
calculating. They decide when you have
become a danger. Gliding, they never seem to
veer from their course, yet suddenly they
surround you. The leader spreads it's wings--a
signal--and they strike.