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Poetry

The Number People
named everywhere.
“This is Fraternity
Island and contains
too few palms.
We shall plant
the sands and shade
our cabanas,”
they announced,
counting the crabs
and scallops, erecting
the same austere
church in every
numbered town.
Once they even
measured the wings
of the gossamer
butterflies
they’d seen alighting
on the pink
lotus blossoms
when they landed,
parched and fevered,
short a helmsman.

 

 


Melissa Tuckman’s writing has appeared in Litro, Necessary Fiction, The Rialto, and Wild Court. She teaches at Rowan University.

 

 

 

Image: Leandra Rieger for Unsplash+

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