The number thirteen is unlucky,
that much seems to be universal.
A thirteen’s like drawing the Death card,
or like getting The Lovers in reversal.
Lucky numbers are different matters,
as their choosing is quite individual,
using birthdays or number of spouses,
or means numerological or digital.
But my lucky number is thirteen,
which means I’ve got luck of The Moon;
I may spend my life singing a dirge,
but at least I won’t sing out of tune.
Now it’s Friday 13th, about 10 am;
I’ve spilled coffee, lost keys, broke my comb.
As usual, I’ve drawn The Fool again,
but at least I’ve got some kind of poem.