A cataract of water clinging to the tail of the penny
magnifies its ringing summons, promises not mere
luck, but double happiness
I must have it, bending over in spite of that voice —
that one of my beau, scolding me with
“Leave it for some less fortunate kid.”
Doesn’t see the one hovering just under my
slightly enhanced self-made sistah’s skin,
bawdy, incredulous celebration of better days.
It’s love when he calls me his little grubber
And, truth? Hovers over a deal as lingeringly as me.
But I just can’t leave double happiness
or just plain luck to someone less appreciative
though I might know that a penny shared is
exponentially luckier to its finder. I’m satisfied
with double happiness.
1 August 2012