Sweet Moose was born a pessimist so she could never believe her luck.

She thought her life was supposed to be terrible but no such good luck.

 

Instead, life had been most pleasant without too much trouble and such rot.

You might think she would have been thrilled by her luck but sadly she was not.

 

The problem was she had an image of what life was supposed to be,

and it had not been how she imagined it as anyone could see.

 

She used to complain about life, but others said she was truly blessed, 

so, they would no longer listen telling her to please give it a rest.

 

She did as they asked not being happy but resigned to the sad fact,

that complaining was no fun if they will not listen with polite tact.

 

Moose tried to change her bad luck by living in a brutal harsh climate,

thinking it would make her miserable and she would not find a good mate.

 

But this did not improve her luck she sadly was content living here,

she even met Michael living next door who had been such a sweet deer.

 

She had known that the tundra was dark and frosty most all of the time,

and it was muddy and filled with mosquitoes in the hot summertime.

 

Who knew she would love the freezing air numbing her big soft padded nose,

or she would adore the squishy mud in-between her lovely hoof toes?

 

Even Mike was better than she had any right to think he would be,

he was handsome and quite kind to her which anyone could clearly see.

 

She knew this was not how her sad life was supposed to happen at all,

but she had the worst kind of luck until she met a Hare named Hare Paul.

 

Hare Paul like Moose had bad luck so when he saw her he let out a cry,

"Wait until seven to step on me that's when I am supposed to die!"

 

Moose had not noticed Hare Paul because the thick mud matched his dirty tint.

So, she was surprised by him and what he said thus asked him for a hint,

 

"I'm not going to step on you now and certainly not at seven.

How do you know seven is when you are supposed to go to heaven?"

 

Moose did not know about hare or about Death so decided to ask,

"Do all hare die at seven and when do moose wear the dreaded death mask?"

 

Hare Paul replied, "No I picked seven for mine. I don't know about moose.

I suggest you pick your lucky number or play the game Duck, Duck, Goose,"

 

Hare continued, "Since life has not turned out as I imaged it would, 

I decided to make sure that death would happen as I think it should."

 

"My life has not turned out as I thought it was supposed to," Sweet Moose said,

"I would plan my death too if I knew when I was supposed to be dead."

 

She had never really thought about how death was supposed to be done,

but now she thought that at seven maybe Death would take more than just one.

 

Rude Puffin had been flying by when she heard this strange conversation,

she had a habit of eavesdropping, which I should probably mention.

 

It was Puffin's way being born nosy in more ways than just the one,

besides no one noticed as she flew high over so what harm was done?

 

Anyway, Puffin's interest was piqued since her luck had been really bad,

so, she chose to land on Moose using Moose's rump as a landing pad.

 

Then Sweet Moose, Hare Paul, and Rude Puffin shared their life stories of bad luck,

followed by how life was supposed to be lived in this cold land of muck.

 

As they compared how their lives were to how their life was supposed to be,

each was surprised by the other's good luck wondering, what about me?

 

When they had all finished they asked one another, what is the matter?

You both have had good luck frankly it could not have been any better?

 

By seeing their lives through someone else's eyes helped them to realize,

that maybe they really should not be planning their untimely demise.

 

Maybe life was not meant to go as you thought it was supposed to go,

maybe life was a journey of discovery so you will then know.

 

Kathleen Zimmerman is an artist, writer, and a Sierra Club member.