88
i just had the number
88
inside my head.
it is not a grade
not money.
it is a mark of what i have done
on the other side
of my life.
i outlive 3,000
going on to 4,000
i clap my hands, give myself a toast
of red wine
when i had my first 1,000
you must remember my 1,000 cranes
paper cranes
paper poems on cranes and other creatures
like butterflies and birds and wind and dust
they have taken upon themselves the burden of flight
they promise me
and i have it now.
88, is my new number now.
i am inside an elevator and i am going up with you
to the nth floor.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Added by Poetry Lover
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