Paper soul, face soft as a coin’s
on its back, on the pavement
Looking out the world from the inside
of a jar:
We are touching but can’t see,
can’t hear, just waiting to be exchanged
at face value.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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One Response to Currency

  1. alesiablogs says:

    I keep a jar with coins. Maybe I’ll have enough to come to one of your Starbucks one day!


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