Numbers Fall

February Eighth, Twenty Fifteen

(Numbers Fall)

By

Mollie Lyon

Numbers fall around me

I wrap myself inside myself

Twenty five- Dad died

Four- I started my blog

We watched Gilmore Girls the first time

Ten- I ventured for Sharon Hospital's home health

Thirty five- I know David

Eleven- Mom broke her hip

David got his job away from home.

The numbers keep coming

On a predawn morning

The head is numb from sinus

I lay in my husband's arms,

The head throbs dull

Like the non-light of morning

As numbers fall with the years I recall,

I see them as numbers and remember those years gone

Six- Mom died

Eight- Katie a senior

Thirty six- I was a senior.

I get up to eat so I can take ibuprofen

And write what no one can read again

I wrap myself inside myself

But I write so I can write more.

The sun is behind those thick clouds

I know it is up somewhere

Just not here

Well I can't see it

Hard to be practical and poetic

The dog scratches himself, then sits at the door.

I let him out, not too cold.

The physical numbness

Seems to be going away

As I hope the numbness in my soul does too.

Twenty six-I've looked out this window

Thirty three-we'll be married

The numbers stopped falling.

I try not to remember much more.