Silver Dollar


I’ve got a silver dollar in my pocket

When I flick it with my thumb upwards, it sings

And does flips in the air and shoots like a rocket

I could spend my dollar on so many things


A song, a piece of gum, a piece of land

I could help Dad with bills, the gas and water

A peace of mind and a helping hand

My dad’s not poor but he’s no yachter


But as I’m flicking I notice a kid

He’s sitting under a bridge as I cross

His eyes are glaring green but hiding under a lid

He looks as if he’s suffered great loss


His face is dirty, his clothes are old

He’s my age and his family is huddled together

He’s a regular hobo

I feel wetness fall down on me, it’s the weather

Ohio is For Lovers



I was sitting on my back porch in the Midwestern night

There were no stars because of all the Tri-State’s lights

But I creaked back and forth in my old rocking chair, in awe


For the first time in my life I realized that things were at play

Larger and greater than myself perhaps in a divine way

I finally believed, in God


He wasn’t the God of the Catholics or Baptists, Pentecostals or Presbyterians

Not of the Buddhists, Muslims, Hindus, Jews, or Zoroastrians

He was just with me there


We didn’t talk, but not for lack of conversation

There seemed no need for chatter; not talking of Heaven or damnation

He didn’t spite Voltaire


And just as the presence was sitting there with me, he was gone

There were no rolls of thunder or climactic angel songs

Just an I am without a sound


On a brutal night of normalcy in Ohio’s routine monotony

All I can say is someone sat there with me

Paradise found