Misplaced

Sometimes I misplace/file a poem
and find it only years later ...
there must be reason to have found
this one right now --

faucon
............

Spin

It was impossible to discern
whether the action was a chance caress

of art and human spirit,
or the culmination of eons of practiced form.
Such is life.
The coin snapped up -- up -- out -- away. A gift? A prayer?
Spinning -- churning -- yearning.
By necessity, the man's palm followed -- open
fingers extended in a conductor's grace.

Last coin or first?
Flashing silver proceeds absorbing dark;
two faces wink in ever changing pace.
Janus dies and lives.
Look ever forward my love and dream.
Look within and learn -- spin larger dreams.
Only a little while -- a breath's eternity --
fall -- fall to the bitter earth

Plink!
The coin scarcely breaks the pulsing
surface of the pool of cycled tears.
Ah yes -- a wish….
..................................