Poem: 27 #the100dayproject Day 37...63 more to go

A tangential poem....

27

It’s divisible by 3 and 9. 

And doesn’t a 3 look like 

a slanted m? 

And doesn’t m make you think of 

something mmmmmm delicious? 

And isn’t it shear luck to find 

a meal that’s just right 

each bite as exciting  

as unwrapping the cellophane  

from a caramel? 

It takes me 27 bites to finish 

a bowl of soup. 

It takes me 27 days in June 

to find my birthday. 

And it takes 27 superstitions 

for me to shade in the numbers 

2, 3, 7, 9, and 27 on every lotto, 

but not once has it made me a dollar 

but still, 27 is my lucky number.