Counting Song

An orange on the first day, an apple the next

Down for the count with a parking-lot picnic

Out on the town in a parking-lot panic

I saw—saw!—the lake before falling asleep

A coin for your feelings? My heart sliced like an apple

The lake shone like milkglass before the storm hit it

Take your coffee and go, take your protocols with you

Store what you desire for the worst of the weekdays

An orange cut in wedges, the stock market says

That the margins are empty with nowhere to sleep

And the tents get blown over and nobody did it

The house you insisted on making gets locked

An apple a day but we don’t know how many

I never know when it stops putting out ripples

While uncountable dark lakeside undergrowth’s growing

The units are bobbing like geese on the lake

An apple a day and ration the oranges

A day where you cry is a day of accounting

I mean it’s better if you can try to keep counting

Your blessings, undoctored, exposed to the air