A Numbers Game

16, 21, 6, 11.

Numbers, a saving grace for a mind too weary to create from whole cloth.

The poem that follows was constructed using the 16th, 21st, 6th, and 11th lines respectively of my poems — The Called, Femme Fatale, The Next Time (a child’s poem), What I’m Going to Be (a child’s poem), Stages, Untitled (a poem for one or two voices), Grace (Light and Shadow), and Lesser Mayhems.

 

 

A Numbers Game

 

make no demands, just
tap them and politely say
while fingers blunder
a half-forgotten chant

time with a god’s eye
for the perfect coming
lamented state     jeremiad
bodies   each a waiting

fear, a deep burn
beating and beating
no more hinted at
half moons cast over

black Medusa helixes
quickened to shadow


[If you’re enjoying my poems, why not check me – Brenda Joyce Patterson – out on social media: Facebook, Twitter, and my website. Or sign up for my newsletter.]

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