Some of us got lucky,
only we never knew,
maybe that was karma,
even ducks feel plucky
on the lake for a float,
floating goslings, grey-blue
under blue-green dharma
sink to submerge blue skies,
gather around a boat
on the lake for a lark,
together they gather,
lash against the bulwark,
under watch of mother,
causing quite a surprise,
kiss the goslings goodbye,
you and your ginger rye.
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