Four, Four, Four
Same numbers do appear.
Constantly I see them.
It seems they’re always near.
They keep repeating. They do not change.
Why do they confront me?
I find it so strange.
4: 44,5: 44,6: 44 too,
12: 44,1: 44
They’re never through.
Surely this time prompt
Is there for a reason
All through my days
in every single season.
Is it a good thing
or is it bad?
Whatever it is
it’s driving me mad.
If it ever stops
I don’t know what I’ll do.
I’ve gotten so used to it.
I think it is my clue
to try to figure it out.
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Comments about this poem (Four, Four, Four by Edwina Reizer )
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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