Sunday morning I balance my check book;
the orderliness of rows and columns is comforting.
I write in pencil, so errors can be erased,
though I rarely make a mistake.
I print the numbers deliberately,
forming each line and curve with care.
I double-check the math, and when I am finished
the bank and I agree: everything balances.
I print ‘BALANCED!” with precision
across the front of the statement in ink,
because once reconciled, it never changes.
Then I file the statement in the hanging file labeled
‘Bank Statements-Checking’ in the
third drawer of the file cabinet in my home office.
And everything is just so.
Next I do Sudoku puzzles.
The nine, neat boxes stacked in order wait for me;
there is logic, process, method used to solve the problem.
It is a comfort to find where each number belongs.
There are rules to follow as I systematically fill in the grid.
Numbers are safe (thus the expression).
They don’t lie, or cheat, or grow bored and fall out of love.
One day I will move on to the Sunday Crossword Puzzle,
but not yet.
I am not yet ready to deal in the treachery of words.
Image by bits-apogee.org
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