Saturday, December 07, 2013

Loose Change, a poem

Loose Change

Regret, the loose change
of my life, is left
in a jar on the dresser
and never counted.

Each purchase, each time
I thought I needed
this, or thought that
would make me happy,

gives me another handful
of coins to add, to clink
one by one against
all I had hoped forgotten.

Stephen Brooke ©2013

A little quick piece, not very ambitious 

addendum, the next day: As usual, the poetry I post here is in early draft form. I can see all sorts of ways this might be revised  and rewritten. Right off, the first word (regret) should probably be dropped.

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