There on the street, was the duck, still pacing, still quacking.
We stopped and walked over to her.
She backed up on the grass, but continued quacking.

There was a big storm drain grate where she stood.  
My husband looked down through it, and saw what caused her
to be so determined to get attention.
A brood of little baby ducks,
struggling in the mucky gurgling water.
We looked for someone to stop,
to help us, but no one did.
A man who was jogging didn't stop either,
when we told him about the babies in the drain.
We struggled lifting the heavy grating,
and my husband held it up while I reached
into the muddy water, to scoop out the babies.
One by one, I stretched as far as I could, to lift them out.
I had only seen three of them,
and thought that was it.

Well, momma duck did not
leave with her brood.
She kept pacing and quacking.