Gathering Pennies


For your thought

They jangle around

Our thoughts

Until they fall from us

Loose change clattering against the sidewalk

Rolling, rolling off into the gutter

We have this sense

Something is missing

Scrambling to find it in our back pockets

Pouring out our bags

What if our lost thoughts, opportunities

Are spare pennies

Laying on the ground

Grimy and scratched, waiting

To be picked up

And if we sense this,

Then would we stop passing them by

But take the time to gather them up