Eight
Eight times I look up and down my
closet door before I close it
down one up two down three up four
down five up six down seven up eight
Eight counts in the songs I dance to
because tempos are even and tunes are even
and even is nice and even is good and
even keeps the mind where it should
be
Eight
Eight like the time all the good shows
come on eight
like the number of days when you’re
just one day late eight
like the number of phases of the moon
and maybe life’s odd because you left
too soon
seven days in a week falls just a little
short and
nine months of waiting seems a bit out
of shape and
thirteen times I’ve listened to that song since monday and
It’s one a.m. and you’re on my brain
like a song on odd beats and sick days
Eight.
I thought about you eight times today
and I can’t keep counting this way
so please be here and
please stay