03/15/20 Numbers

If I had to do it all over again,

I would learn to count differently.

No, I don’t mean the numbers –

Those seem to change little

no matter how much I bend them.

I mean… differently.

I’d count with my eyes closed

my mouth saying grateful things,

tongue rolling back and forth

like hiding a Jolly Rancher.

I’d count the minutes alone

as though we were waiting to be together.

I’d count the last time I loved someone

as though time was running short.

I’d count not the days I made it on time

but the times I was late

because I was with you.

I’d count every single creek I neglected to jump in

in my rush to get

there.

I’d count my mom and my dad together

whether they ever were

or not.

I’d count the tangerines in the bag

backwards

from too many

to gone

and then I’d count the rinds

scattered on the grass

as though I was learning to paint.

I’d count the days between my cat’s kills with sadness

and with longing.

I’d count coffee cups

by the dozen,

not because I need to keep going

but because I had gotten lazy

each morning

loosing count

with a friend.

I’d count every phone number abandoned

and pick it back up.

I’d count the years between our meeting

and then turn them into you.

I’d count unreasonably,

recklessly,

Without dividend,

like poetry –

like the weather –

I’d count on you

and you would count on me