Duck duck goose

“Look, look, look!” 

he says

poking her with one hand

and pointing to a young man,

by the lakeside,

with his other.

“he's having an epiphany!”

“OUCH! Stop poking me!...

How can you tell?”

“I had one just like it, I can tell by his face”

“when?”

“when I was young”

“you are young”

“I was much younger before”

“were you by a lakeside?”

“no, I was in bed”

“was I there?”

“no”

“did you know me then?”

“no”

“what was the epiphany about?”

“that's like asking what deja vu is about”

“I know what my deja vu is about”

“what?”

“I remember being near a lake,

you were a hound

and I was duck,

you snapped at me

but I knew you were just playing”

“yes, you had nice feathers then...

Rghouf rghouf!” He barks at her squinting face,

they laugh.

 

The young man by the lakeside hears their banter

and turns his attention from the branches overhead

to the pretty couple rolling in the grass barking and quacking.

He was beginning to get used to these synchronicities.

Earlier that morning he awoke to the sound of children playing

duck duck goose, in the courtyard.

He got out of bed playfully annoyed,

and barked like a viscous dog, out the window,

down into the courtyard.

A couple of the little girls screamed,

he laughed to himself over eggs and coffee.