zeroes on the loose

.

I prefer zeroes on the loose
to those lined up behind a cipher.

I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.

I prefer to knock on wood.

I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.

I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that existence has its own reason for being.


—Wislawa Szymborska

.

The sun turns like a pinwheel. 

It counts 

its radiant, radioactive petals, ending always 

in ‘love,’ an odd number—


—Oni Buchanan

.