
Ten
Ten digits
They loll on the end
of my work-worn hands
Sometimes they seem to
prance in the air when
I’m excited
Pointed in wrathful fury
they intimidate no one
They remind me of
important to-dos with
sticky notes posted on
the fridge
They dig deep in the
black earth to provide
me with beans and beets
and squash and do battle
with slugs and beetles
They shade my eyes from
the shattering sunlight
Just for fun they deal cards-
seven each- in a hotly
contested game of UNO
And as the day turns to night
they curl up under my
pillow as I drift of to sleep
Ten
Ten poking digits
My fingers