NUMBER

A primal human once somewhere refined
The heavy thought of number; each child unique,
Each dog, each stone, each tree, each hill–but like
Enough to others to make a type, a class, a kind,

A kind implying more than unity,
A second child, a seventh planet, a tenth
Finger or toe, handy for measurements;
Soon hundreds, thousands, square roots of minus three.

Much to devise, and soon we’re off to map
The other side of the moon. But still we mull
The mystery of manyness: molecules,
The profusion of species, galaxies, bubbles, synapses,

Sands and seeds–infinite multiplicity.
Mo wonder we blunder and yearn for lost simplicity.

(55, September 17, 1992)

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