I offered two nickels,
she demanded a dime
It wasn’t enough,
her anger declined
“Can’t you make change,”
she then shouted aloud
And while counting my failures,
her voice reendowed
But the count was undone,
all divisors were shunned
My offerings
attacked
With her vault locking down,
and my ledger unbound
The numbers red
—not black
(Dreamsleep: October, 2020)
Intrinsecus
Centennial masterpiece,
numbers subtract
The prize in the wandering,
years drifting back
Memory indentured,
the sour and sweet
Pointing me inward
—a timeless retreat
(Dreamsleep: October, 2020)