In “For Four,” Hans Ostrom treats the number four as a close, almost romantic companion. Where others might see the numeral’s shape as a sailboat or a tree, the speaker sees something solitary and watchful: a sentinel in snow, a draftee more lost than zero, more alone than one. The mood is quiet, odd, and tender. The speaker calls himself “circular and disorderly” but loves what four represents—angles, geometry, corners—and remembers summers spent squaring foundation corners with his father. Four becomes the pattern behind music and building: a beat, a measure, a box, a square. The closing words like quarter, quarto, quadrangle, and corner suggest that four is not small or limiting but complete, able to contain itself.
For Four — Summary
It’s the only number I’ve befriended. Others see it as sailboat or tree. I see it as a sentinel in the snow, a draftee more lost than zero, more alone than one.
Circular and disorderly, I love nonetheless angles, geometry. I spent summers truing four corners of foundations with my founding father.
Four’s the only number that romanced me; it’s the beat, the measure, the box, the square. Quarter and quarto, quadrangle and corner, a small number always big enough to house itself.