Who Counts
The Encounters.
If I had an abacus,
Or used a calculator,
Counting the encounters,
That comes sooner or later.
I’d add up the evidence,
And write it in my diary,
All very important,
For a future enquiry.
There’d be the vet I met,
Whilst caring for our dog,
And the lady at the shop,
Where I shopped in a fog.
I don’t care much for counting,
If I counted up the lot,
It might send my mind spinning,
When the going gets too hot.
I meet many in groups,
And find some on the net,
Then there are friends of friends,
And millions I haven’t met.
Other times when I’m tired,
And want a holiday,
I stay at home and don’t roam,
A safe place to stay.
When I count encounters,
My mind begins to whirl,
And I can’t remember,
The names as they unfurl.
So I know I will go,
Where many others went,
Here one day gone the next,
And enjoy today, what is heaven sent.
©
David Rudder
2023
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