On Wishing Well.

She saved all the pennies she ever found

face down on the ground like they were

praying -the last honest worshippers

to the last Lady of Luck.

She kept them in a silver sleeve

that once held a golden photo

with his hair and the sun all glowing.

Now it's just pennies

and every full moon she pulls one

with it's copper sphere to match the silver one outside

folds two hands around the tiny circle

and every full moon by the window

she closes her eyes.

she wishes...

for bridges to burn

for a fiddle to play

for a globe to upturn

for one more day

where he was hers.