COUNTING BACKWARDS: a poem

COUNTING BACKWARDS

            

When she can’t fall asleep she

counts backwards from one hundred

ninety-nine  ninety-eight  ninety-

seven  When her heart races and

pounds she counts backwards ninety-

six  ninety-five  When anxiety threatens

her with fainting she counts backwards ninety-

four ninety-three Sometimes the numbers

get lost in the shuffle of so many thoughts

creeping unwelcomed and she has to start

over again from one hundred  ninety-nine 

ninety-eight  ninety-seven Counting backwards

is hard work.  It requires concentration.  It demands

fortitude and patience ninety-six ninety-

five ninety-four  Counting backwards

serves many purposes   ninety-three  ninety-two

And it’s portable ninety-one ninety   She counts

while riding the bus to work in the morning, sitting

in the café at noon, walking home or simply

waiting eighty-nine eighty-eight  Numbers

appear behind her eyes eighty-seven  Fingers type them

up in air eighty-six  eighty-five  Heart slows

down.  Lips draw a smile eighty-four eighty-three

eighty-two eighty-one eighty seventy-nine