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Title Poem

Five degrees to separation

I learned to count early
Read the bible too
Wrath, punishment
Seemed no absolution
Separate at five

In the morning
When I was defiled
Five screams a minute
Five shiny points from
The glass shards

Five fingers, to check off
As I calculate
In five minutes I'm clean
and new
Separated by five degrees

Five from what I don't want
To remember, anything green
Black or brown
Make it easier
Five letters/numbers are my friends

The ceiling fan;
Wood, glass, white, brown, brass
Another set of quints
A quick escape
When I should need one

My rabbit hole with
Back-doors aplenty
Five senses all shut down
I've got good and can count
Before what might happen

Safe in numbers, hidden
When I separate from myself.

©2001-2011 Janet Caldwell