My life slides into digits;
I count: ten, twenty, till I run out,
and this seems to be
the ongoing theme – lately.
Where I only have one pair
of anything; hands, feet,
whatever you think; ears to hear,
and eyes to see, but
I’m listening, and I’ve looked,
and I keep finding myself
off the hook, with no more
fingers, no more toes than
total; twenty, but I need more,
so lend me yours, “won’t you?”
And as I slide those socks
off your feet; those piggies –
I’ll try (but no promises made),
“alright?” not to tickle.

Tagged ,

3 thoughts on “Digits

  1. fridayam says:

    Much as your poem made me chuckle, I must point out that “two pairs” is four, dear lady ;) x

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