I know because I counted

I miss the dark reaching through my window
on Pennsylvania street, the dark that turned
the oak tree into medusa, locks and their tongues lurching
side to side in the wind. There were things I hated.
Smog, cops, speeding tickets, Burger King, White Castle,
parking lots with dirty needles, Burger King, Burger King.

But I don’t think of those anymore, I think of clouds
deconstructing in the sky, pine needles, heavy
with ice, falling on my head, covered in a wool hat,
bought from an Amish woman
at the Broadripple Farmers Market. Her hands
didn’t stop knitting even for a second and I know
because I stood in the sun and counted over and over,
I counted one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

Margaret Kerr-Jarrett’s poetry has been featured in Lumina, Apricity Press, Solstice, Communication Arts, and elsewhere. She is the co-founder of Nihilo, a branding studio that emphasizes the synchronistic combination of writing and design. Originally from Indianapolis, Margaret lives in Jerusalem with her husband and three children.

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