Swept away by fire,
Or was it locusts we fled?
Regardless, death loomed

Pestilence prevailed
By air, mosquitos swarmed us
Nameless diseases

For big oil’s pleasure
We abdicated our role
A plague on our house
I. favorite number
five; superstition dictates.
i am a child born
on the fifth day of
the tenth month, a multiple
of five. mystical.
Photo from HowardDavidJohnson.com
II. give me five, one hand
thrust open in greeting, slapped
up high, down low, slide
across palms touching, friendship
displayed playfully.
Photo by David from Society 6.
III. ring ’round the rosie
pocket quite full of posey,
all but five fall down.
a circle drawn in
childish games mocking death’s role
In childhood forgot.
Jeu d’enfants a Riquewihr-1920’s -Alsace-Robert Doisneau