According to the hour
today was expected to be
our seventh start.
Of course love’s sickness endured
no matter how lightly we tried
our footprints were imprinted
deep and heavy in the mud.
I suspect, that neither of us
ever wanted to be left alone
so here we are counting.
I pull the flower and stem
and like an expert
I prepare the blossom.
Thank goodness,
this particular flower of mine
has more than a million petals.
I’ll continue
with my counting song,
I pull a petal
“She loves me.”
I pull a petal
“She loves me not.”
I’ll continue on like this
for centuries,
perhaps, this is the flower
we won’t need to
start over again.
Dragonfly Poetry 