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Shiny Baubles.

Updated on December 1, 2009

Shiny Baubles.



Bent over low
the old black man
hobbles in a crabwalk
down the boulevard.

Arthritic fingers
gripping his Goodwill cane,
the cracks in the
uneven sidewalk
of the inner city
reflect deeply
on his face
and down his
ancient leatherneck.

Inching wearily across
the derelict landscapes
pausing only once to
stoop much lower
than life already
has folded
and creased him.

To pinch
from the stained concrete
two copper pennies.

Minutes of grasping
and regrasping
these so called
lucky tokens.

Studying them with
a toothless grin
remembering when they
were worth so much more,
then the shiny baubles
they now represented.

But his smile
slowly fades
as he finds himself
wishing that Lincoln
whose face was also
worn and tarnished,
had held far more value
to society at large
then two cents
worth of promises .

Old Abe's
words of equality
ring hollow now
in the cavern
where this old man's
brain floats.

He could count
on his fingers
times when he
shared close feelings
with those of
a paler color,
and the only thing equal
at this point in his life
is his pulse
and his age of 88.

As he tossed the coins
and felt the rage.


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