twelve

twelve jurists and steps, disciples and hours
star signs and months with their stones and their flowers
there were twelve ancient tribes on wandering feet
and that many eggs make a dozen complete
it's the most you can get from a pair of dice
and the span of the small hand that goes around twice
the edge of a ruler and the final bell to chime
the drummers who were drumming at the end of christmas time
the animals in menus illustrating Chinese years
the planetary houses that forecast our hopes and fears
in this last lucky number dwells redundancy of form
the compulsion of consistency, the safety of the norm
so let the witching hour obfuscate the hold of things mundane
turn back into a pumpkin, live thee free, or go insane.