“Even I”

have a penny dish at my checkout
for the unwanted, dirty disks of metal—
which we all carry around.
Of little value to most,
tossed off at no consequence,
but once in a while—
they prove to be just enough;
Exactly what we need;
An exchange of a smile
from one stranger to another—
while one holds the door open
and lets the follower order first
from the barista in blue jeans,
frothing a hot cup of milk.
Sometimes, these gestures—
these meaningless pennies
add up to the instant winner
in the scratch-off lotto.
So take a penny,
leave a penny— and always
leave the toilet seat down
and your luggage on your lap,
so another someone can sit
while riding the express.

narrative poem written on 03-05-2011 by: on mattkane.com
view image of poem


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