Counting on My Fingers (18)

Written by Susan Fritz | Sunday, October 23rd, 2022 Posted in Blog , ,
Porcelain.18
One two three…four five six… 

You see me, palm-treed and pale traveler
Off to see the wide wide world
Sometimes the wizard 

Seven eight nine…ten eleven twelve…

Participator in carbon-sucking time machines of flight
Forever flitting and fleeing and floating
On to the next and the next 

Thirteen fourteen fifteen…

There are also things you don’t see
Seated at my table for one
Repeated questions

“Married?”
“No kids?”
“Why not?” 

I suppose—I do—if I’d tried harder (tried at all), I could have settled down, found and kept a fella, swiped right enough times to remedy my situation

I suppose—I do—if I’d cried harder instead of packing and re-packing 
booking and re-booking playing games with bonus miles on credit cards 

I suppose—I do—if I'd explained myself instead of that other situation
planning forward instead of looking back 

Life might include the need for a second menu, if not a third or forth 
I’d write this from a table for two and gift him porcelain today 

But I did “I do”
I did. 

Sixteen seventeen eighteen…

I count the years on my fingers
Inherited it from my mom 

I did “I do” 

and maybe
from the air
across the sea
traversing land

I don’t need to do it again. 

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