“TAPPING THE WELL”

Broken mirror at the bottom of luck.
I cast all my loose coins,
but I never toss enough.
The toll on a wish your heart makes;
That is the price of change—
But this myth belongs to
children. They have no choice but to change—
so they throw themselves in. That is why
the surface reflects all of us
when we search our pockets
to give away— what we will almost always
do without.

narrative poem written on 11-08-2010 by: on mattkane.com
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