I’ve lost
two cities,
I’ve gained
three faster, lost three colleagues,
six
seemed luckier.
I’ve lost
four seedlings,
It's eight
fruits I was after, lost five kilos,
Ten jeans now hook faster.
I’ve lost
six shillings,
The twelfth
disciple made it harder, lost seven weddings,
Fourteen pillows soaked disaster.
I’ve lost
eight teachings,
The
sixteenth verse spoke louder, lost nine canines,
Eighteen
stitches held tighter.
I’ve gained
ten chances,
The
eleventh one is still on offer, know it’s not easy,
You too
will heal quicker.
It’s fast
so it’s easy,
That’s why
you have laughter.
Bleed but be pretty, for I know you are a fighter.
* * * *
Inspired by One Art a poem by Elizabeth Bishop (1911-79)
Malindi Kenya, 23-08-13
