21 in a Lakeside Shack

As the sun dwindles
It casts a bluish glow
Across the placid lake

Major
The goose of the marina
Calls out his evening serenade

The sweet smell
Of a waning summer
Drifts on the breeze

I am living alone
But am not lonely

From my deluxe K-Mart hammock
I follow the equator with Mark Twain
Stopping in Bali Ha’i
Where I take up the harmonica

I figured a lot out that summer

But nothing stuck

Until I happened on
A little love and luck