Poem Hunter
I Keep Finding Pennies
HI (Then / There)

I Keep Finding Pennies

Poem By Hazel Izbitt

And something’s coming as I
Pass oxidized lamp posts
And the early autumn breeze embraces the
Toile shadows of
Rolling hills
And honking fills my head with percussive silence
As I ponder…
Whilst Mute prophets grasp
Cardboard like Van Gogh’s ear
And Crayola giggles sing
The truth. As
Breaking news broke
Upon the hypnotized ears
Of the briefcases and cassarole
Dinners. When 50 more die overseas,
And we still don’t know how many licks
It takes to get to
The center of a Tootsie Pop.
It’s funny how we
Dance our way from one
Cage to the next as we
Run from the shackles which
Bind in hindsight
As all we can do is dance.
For now,
IT fights the fight
And caulks the wagon
To forge the river of
Colorblind ears (melodies) .

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