This poem was originally written for another Friday, the 13th, back in December, 2019. Today seems like an appropriate time to publish it again. Of course, I am usually not too superstitious. Hmm, where are my lucky socks?
Does Friday, the 13th, bring on bad luck?
Breaking a mirror, let’s not make a scene
Crossing paths with a black cat, now fear struck
This Friday’s trying hard, to make us scream
Let’s focus on a different number
Twelve delivers a comforting meaning
Twelve Days of Christmas, never to shudder
Twelve Tribes of Israel, never demeaning
For some people, “thirteen” seems unlucky
Not really sure why others whine and fuss
Heading out the door with my dog Lucky
Snow flurries in June, now that’s treasonous!
So, what’s the big deal about the 13th?
Just change the calendar to the 14th
Big Sky Buckeye 