Appendages Poem by Edwina Reizer

How many fingers do I have?
Enough to work to the bone.
How many hands do I have?
The two that I do own.

How many toes do I have?
Enough to fill my shoes.
How many feet do I have?
The two that I do use

to get me where I want to go,
walking a leisurely pace.
It seems to be a lost art anymore.
Most are in a race.

But since I am retired
I don't ever rush around.
My fingers, my toes, my hands, my feet
make me slow right down.