Thirteen Cents

I thought the penny must have shone
With some internal light
It was far too new, too perfect
To remain in my possession

Holding hopes and dreams the penny sailed
Turning over in the open air
Coming at last to rest
At the bottom of the well

In the palm of a child
The penny grew warm
Then slick as he perspired
Eager to spend it

The penny sat there on the tracks
With it’s face toward the sun
As a whistle blew
And the train came through the tunnel.

He discarded it without a thought
As he walked toward his brand new car
What use had he
For a penny?

In the jar resides a penny
Saved for just in case, for maybe
No one has ever named it purpose
It may just wait forever

I was deep in contemplation
With furrowed brows and racing heart
When I saw the penny gleaming
I picked it up; I was in need of luck.

Face down in the rain it laid
As countless souls walked past
With eyes for naught but umbrellas and streetlights
And no glance to spare for a penny

He played on the street corner
Strumming for the penny tossed into his case
There it lay atop soiled garments
Along with everything that he owned
She was born in 1938
So was her penny
As time passed she held it ever closer
As if hoping it would shield her.

He had nothing left to loose
Betting everything he had
On a fifty-fifty chance
The flip of a penny

The penny jingled as she ran
She feared the sound would give her away
But she feared more
What would happen if she stopped to silence it

I was not sure it was a penny
When first it caught my eye
Passed between a thousand hands
It was beaten, used and tarnished