Lost

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