You are a dollar
Soft, crinkled like an old man’s hands.
Tomorrow, you are a nickel,
Seven dimes, and a quarter.
Longer to count.
Easy to lose.
It frightens me
When you are
One hundred copper pennies.
One cent
Under the couch,
On the parking lot
For someone to pocket
For luck,
And you are not
One hundred,
But only ninety-nine.

~Violetta Nikitin

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