PENNY
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When I was a tot I put a penny on my tongue
and tasted what they ate in a cave.
The bones of dragons,
licked clean of sinew,
flavored by the iron arrow that made him slain,
a soup stirred by a crone
whose ragged sleeve dipped into the steaming gruel.
My grandfather was a giant,
chief assassin when kin gathered,
who always placed a nickel on my forehead,
pressed it to cling with drunken spittle.
My mother brushed the coin away
to keep my price pure and high.
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'My mother brushed the coin away
ReplyDeleteto keep my price pure and high'
Reality check? Or early introduction to pragmatism? Beautiful poem. Everything's there: child's innocence and adult's world (the spittle). Many thanks.
Greetings from London.
Greetings to a Cuban:
ReplyDeleteTo balance reality and idealism..that finally kicked in!!
Poem..thank you..just rises to the surface, somehow..
Beautiful poem Lyn
ReplyDeleteI love what you say and how you say it
Linda
Hi Linda-
ReplyDeleteThanks for your lovely comment..
really appreciate it!
I believe I've found a favorite among your poems that you've posted - this is just wonderful - Happy Thanksgiving Lyn :)
ReplyDeleteHi Jeane-
ReplyDeleteThank you..I'm so pleased..of course I can't choose..
Happy Thanksgiving to you too!!
This reminds me of the metalic taste I was describing in my opening line of "Late" last week. Gosh, I always had a penny in my mouth when I was little. I say it's because we were creative!
ReplyDeleteHi Willow-
ReplyDeleteYes, that's right, you too are a penny eater! Creative, of course! Although I shortly switched to chocolate...
Hi Lyn,
ReplyDeleteAnother evocative poem. I'd never thought of a coin tasting like dragon bones, but it does!
Hi Derrick-
ReplyDeleteThanks..did you just taste one? Poetry's a funny thing, isn't it..