The Penny

The Penny
by:simple spider

The Penny, coarse and flat,
Feels cool between my fingers,
It keeps my hand company in a
Dark Empty Pocket.

I found it there as I walked to class.
No doubt the result of dryer magic.
Like an electron, easily missed,
Free to appear wherever it likes.

I hold it tight between my thumb and index finger
Feel its ridged reality
But I know that soon my mind will wander
And the penny will disappear.

I would never spend it.
On what?
I wouldn’t think to save it either.
Another will come along easily enough.

And yet, like the brilliance of a midnight epiphany,
Soon I will not remember the penny.
It will drift from my mind.
Where did I place it?

Was it ever here at all?
It seems absurd to think.
But like so many tiny things
It takes focus to keep it here.

But that is later.

For now...

I don’t care to dream of dollars
The countless many
That propel me through life.

The Penny is now warm against my hand
Comfortably wrapped in a cotton cocoon
Slowly emerging,
                        Born to the world,
Phasing into time from some dreamless place.

Kissed by my thumb it leaps,
A metallic flip in the morning light,
End
      over
            End,

Faded Lincoln, 1999.