adventures in dysthymia

Saturday, March 04, 2017

Number, a poem

Number

I have calculated the number of elephants
needed to reach from here to the moon.
Who could round that many up?

They hide themselves in hedges and fence rows,
trumpeting their laughter. Might I
gather giraffes to fill the gaps?

Don’t even ask me about Mars.

Stephen Brooke ©2017

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