A Poem a Day (242): Random eight

 

Random eight

All these random numbers,
Notes plucked out of thin air,

Nothing solid to lay your head upon,
Just openings into the void.

Played out on invisible keys,
Suspended on transparent wires,

Walk this tightrope over open waters,
Rushing in discordant sound.

All these six-sided dice rattling,
Guess how they will fall?

Do you feel lucky in your choice –
Is it the infinite number?

Played on invisible roulette tables,
The ball spins, red to black,

But this ghost wheel can’t turn itself.
It can’t tell your destiny at all.

Copyright Vickie Johnstone, August 14, 2020