What will I give you now
for your thoughts. Without those
two pairs of copper eyes
in my pair of copper loafers,
who will guide the child
feet in me across Heaven’s and Hell’s
streets. How will I learn to look
up instead of to the earth as I
kneel down hoping no one sees,
to scoop the lost and forgotten
from a puddle of mud
in a church parking lot,
knowing that’s what brings luck.
And where will be the mother
digging down in her purse
among the tobacco dregs, coral lipstick,
and half-sticks of Wrigley Spearmint
chewing gum to pull out a gift
for fountains and sacred wells.
To play poker and smell my pennied
fingers. And all that candy.
What could be prettier!
And up in Heaven
in vault after vault,
laid out side by side,
wrapped tight in neat rows,
roll after roll of pinched
bundled blessings,
Lincolns in sleeves
just waiting
to be reawakened.