A PENNY FOR HIS THOUGHTS
Breezy and cool. Small white moths—or are they flower petals?—flutter against the grey sky. A field sparrow’s ascending notes.---Dave Bonta, The Morning Porch
Because it looked like an unwashed navel,
The penny had no pickers, until he found it.
He said it is either the day’s lucky coin or it
Is a token that his thought was worth one.
First thought: the moth in the sparrow’s
Beak could pass for a small white petal.
Why would that be a strange image?
These windshield defecators scavenge
For wrigglers or anything small and alive,
But flowers? Birds will not prey on beauty,
Random as it may be in this unlikely garden,
They would rather chew on moving things,
Like wrigglers, dumpster maggots, scooped
Dog or cat poop still warm in grocery bags.
Final thought: Why would I prefer to keep
The dirty coin instead of leaving it there?
No choice can be made between a coin
And a petal; I’d have all or nothing at all.
---Albert B. Casuga
04-15-12
I like how the grossness and beauty in this poem jostle against each other.
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