Child, counting

Wind keeps counting

sandgrains on shifting dunes.

He cannot count me.

Summer keeps counting

stars in clear night skies.

He cannot count me.

Storm keeps counting

rain pellets in her heart.

She cannot count me.

Light keeps counting

things. She won’t ever stop.

She cannot count me.

Death keeps counting

hordes of sparrows and starlings,

hairs on your head, and

bare bones on heaps. But

I’m hiding behind closed fingers.

He cannot count me.

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a spring                                 flows out                                                    of a mountain

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