While Pouring Coffee
one tree, a world of racket, every dusk that ever was.
I am a holy heart four angels defend,
other times I am nothing but flesh and fingertips.
There are four seasons, three necessities,
two sides to the moon.
The window has eight panes;
I am in them all.
A double 55 for Real Toads. 55 words, and the numbers in the poem add up to 55.