all these numbers

I have,

all these remembered numbers

. . .

digits that don’t add up to

anything anymore

Time differences

across which you’ve

gone missing

3 hours ahead. . .

3 hours behind. . .

your absence

on your end

I feel between,


This number

to cell

and that number

to land

these numbers

to live

to life

what if,

what if,

there is no see?


Nor connection

to be had


or heard


with or without

“hashtag 1”

these numbers are

just extraneous now

. . .


Litanies missing meaning

this day in September

and oh!

That day in June. . .

tagged dates

for Asters. .

cut and without water.

and sudden lilies, too

damnably persevering

a dozen I think

at least

(but can’t be sure)

since numbers

bear forgetting

remembered numbers

. . .

that don’t add up

to anyone anymore

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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