poetry

two quarters

i think i’m growing up today
there are two quarters in my pocket
i rub them for good luck and
they smile back at me

i think i’m growing up today
ideas ignite inside my head
i’ve cleared away that teenage fog
she’s asleep and so are the voices

i think i’m growing up this way
when you bleed over the years
you leave behind whispers
your mother may have heard
but today I have
two quarters in my pocket
the silver men stare back
with a presence in their eyes

i know i’m growing up today
my laundry doesn’t argue with me
my bookshelf gleams like my parents
faces at the finish line
my mother wants me to win
my father hopes i grow
to see that soft sun
dance in the grass

i know i’m growing up today
there is a field out there
life is almost perfect
a woman walks with me
her hand skates above
the heads of archetypes
she listens to the music in the wind
and tells me it’s time

meet me there – she says
under the moist tree
it guards our food
our wine wafts in the goblets
holding the memories

i trundle down to that tree
two quarters lie in my pocket
i drink in the shade
she begins to sing a velvet song
with slow notes and few lyrics

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