Red Duck Poem

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The Red Duck Along Sea
I am the “Red Duck”. Not an actual duck. A “red, rubber duck”. I do not have a name. (Ethel Pochocki).
I am on a ship, coming toward America. We are in the Pacific Ocean, right now. Splash! The boat just tipped. Pop! The boat is snapping in half…. That was something, I just feel off the boat. Lightly, I drift along water. I see a few of my brothers and sisters, but I am very far away from them.
I see shore up ahead. The tide brings me in. There is an old lady. The old lady starts to pick me up; she throws me in her bucket. I wonder where am I going ?
Later on that day, I get to the old lady’s house. Her name is on the door. “Mrs. Majeska”. Mrs. Majeska, named me Sara. In the evening, I start to tell her how I

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