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Poem: Made for Each Other 

Nobody will ever love you
like your money,
the way it clings,
so reluctant to leave,
the sorrow it evokes
when it passes on to others.
How often you think of it
there with them,
making them happy,
yet irrepressible
in its longing,
what it goes through
to reassure
it is only about you,
awaiting your touch
in your wallet, or clip,
and, when you awaken,
clumped together in servitude
in change and crumpled bills
on your bureau,
even sending statements
through the mail!
And the reverie.
How bright it was
when first you met,
that single shining coin,
how reaffirming
when held close.
How often have you
almost lost it entirely,
only to have it return,
made small,
yet pleading
for your attention.
How it struggled
through your efforts
to find you,
saying, Here I am,
with you again at last.
It could always be like this.

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Speaking of Poetry

  • A poem by Clifford Henderson.

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