change dish

a
penny
once shiny
and bronze, presented
to a small child on a birthday,
now tarnished, collecting
dust, behind silken
cobweb veils
connecting
black
coils of
the refrigerator
to the wall, unable to make
change for the two
cents everyone
has to give.
he feels
this
way, under
the weight of his
diagnosis, and cookie cutter
therapeutic
solutions.
she
feels this,
with each false
prophet who visits
her village, to tell stories
of hope by the one
well, shared by
hundreds,
thirsty
like
her.
they
feel this
way, as another
new year slips into the sun
without a resolution,
once found, now
lost at the
bottom
of
the
change
dish, on everyone's
bedside table, waiting for
someone to get
desperate
enough
to
think
of them. find
your penny, enrich
their lives.