Trinity

Math is not my friend
We buck heads over answers
That must be right or wrong
Gray does not exist in the minds of math-minded
There is a narrowing, whittling to the n’th degree
The theology of numbers
Has no room for interpretation
Or personal history
But I know this to be True
Three is holy
And three is my friend
But who is counting
The three children
One watched Count Dracula
With me, Sesame Street math
Serving numbers up with sugar coated ease
Three writers at a lit lunch
Time stands still
Math and science don’t believe it
Ask the poet writer how
She will find the words
And three amigos
Simple counting on one hand
Friends in triplicates
Warm and fuzzy
Math matters not at all
With matters of the heart
God knows the sacred
In the number three
This poem brought to you
By the number three
A braided cord too
Strong to break
Binds