Jan 9 03

Imagine different ways the world presses down on a quarter,
how many palms, how many pocket linings, how many times
drops the quarter, until it's almost lost, among grass-blades
after jarring descents down concrete stairwells on campus
or apartment blocks, until it moves at a snail’s pace,
and then totters. And there, someone discovers it, inserts it
in the slot of a vending machine, all bells and whistles,
bells at once! While it falls to its side among the weight
of its semblances, pressed to clover, thistle or bluebird.