Walk to the lake-
preferably at dusk, the gray cashmere air soft upon your cheeks.
Wear polka dot shiny rain boots
and carry a furled umbrella, twirling it like a baton.
Savagely stomp through every puddle you find,
unless there’s a small child or dog near by.
A man stands motionless at one end of the lake…
stop to see that he’s staring at the clouds reflected
in the shiny still mirror of the lake.
Hear the squelchy humor of the ducks
busy beaking the buttery mud
and up ahead….in the soft kind light,
marvel at the whirring wings of a flock as they settle upon the grass
like a stuttering old movie projector as it shows its last reel.
Discover the last great truth of the day….
it’s impossible to be unhappy,
while watching a duck waddle from behind.