Poetry

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Down down the path to the lake
went a small flock of a dozen geese
crossing my vision in single file
military-like, eyes straight ahead
all beaks level to the ground,
until came one limping near the rear
hobbling to keep up, scuffling as if
trying three times as hard his fellows
to maintain the flawed order
to get the same hopeful result
the others managed near effortlessly.
Down down to the water they went
where all handicaps are hidden and
geese glide on smooth equal terms.

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