The Way
It used to be.
One two three
You and me
Then add another
I yell yippee
Can’t you see
The last one was my mother.
Three-four five
Take a dive
Now, there are four
On the dance floor
Six seven eight
Don’t be late.
Look, there are seven.
Headed off to heaven
Nine ten eleven
Twelve, thirteen, and fourteen
Don’t dare turn your back.
Who knows where you have been?
As the count gets longer
I feel stronger
Fifteen sixteen seventeen
Eighteen nineteen twenty
I have
All numbers in between.
One two three
She said to me
And I said to her
Why not sit on my knee
Can’t you see
That’s the way it should be.
The more I count
I try to recount
The way it used to be
When one and one made two
And we were free
To climb a tree.
©
David Rudder
2024
Thank you for reading this piece and my poetry.
