[Erik Olson]

Changeable

I spread and handle change that I have squirreled
Away from states I lived in round the world—
The coins I pocketed each day before
When cashing, and safe-keeping was a must.
Now I recount old selves, puff away dust
From diverse currency that crowds my drawer:
Symbols of which I can't make heads or tails,
Strange faces grime has covered with a coat;
All grows obscure the more remembrance fails
Though once my daily bread, and learned by rote.
I keep, from towns I've lived in, and each stage,
This and this only, rough handfuls of change.

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