I tossed a coin.
It landed face-up saying ‘Do it!’,
continued spinning like the sun.
I guess it would have turned
around forever if I hadn’t
grabbed it, stopped it,
tossed again.
It landed on ‘humility’,
melted,
flowed across the wooden
man-made table top
as if a gob of treacle,
sweet. I gathered up the syrup and
I tossed a coin.
Gambles of the heart...
ReplyDeleteThe dizzying, confusing kind (for how does a coin land face-up and continue to turn at the same time?). Stop it! (and try again)
Then we have the melting of the heart/coin, and the recycling (never-ending) kind... warm and sweet.
An excellent poem. Thanks.