Currency exchange

She sat
Quite still
Amongst the used bus tickets
And fading supermarket receipts
A money-off coupon would wrap itself
Around her and whisper
We all expire
Some time
She has grown dull
And he whose warm hands once held
And cherished her
Is tossing a shiny new coin
Now and then he’ll fish her out
And contemplate her value
As a paperweight
Or a trolley token
That treasured moment
Under his blue eyed scrutiny
Is cut short
By the click of the purse
As she plunges back down
Into darkness

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Hi there! I'm a long-time lover of poetry and have been writing for as long as I can remember. I have published a few pieces in poetry magazines and would love to publish a collection. I am also working on my first novel.

7 Responses

  1. Alfred Booth says:

    Stunning writing. I’ve said for years it’s hard to write love poems because all has been said and done. Here you have written a highly personal view of the sadness of lingering love, and it is heart wrenching. Your poem transcends the typical love poem that usually leaves me cold. “And he whose warm hands once held…” Thank you for this poem.

  2. Naomi Tate Maghen says:

    So happy this was in the picks and therefore, easy to find. This is wonderful writing, I can’t choose a favourite part, it’s all moving, so sad, in such a gentle way

  3. Mario Vitale says:

    great depth in this timeless piece

  4. Mario Vitale says:

    very good in humble respect

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