Listen to poem:
Old Hands Chime Twelve
Old hands counted fingers to define,
That the hours in a day chime twice twelve,
That the months in a year toll what the old hands told.
Twelve apostles, tribes and days of Christmas do unfold
Twelve jurors decide, the twelfth is the hanged man card,
12 inches make a foot, 12 notes in an octave for a song do abide.
12 eggs in a dozen, 12 faces on two dies, does craps decide.
On 12 lunar cycles and 12 months in a year, does the seasons reside.
The annual elliptic zodiac journey passes through 12 constellations.
So it's so true, that so much of how we count and conceive,
Our universe, fate, course and the passage through time,
Depends on how our ancestors counted with their fingers.
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