Coins

Goodbye old Queen
currency
of the homeland
regal
and familiar
old Lion crest
ready for the pub
and not afraid of mud
or cold games
of rugby

A kind of fleur-de-lis
a
hard ninety degree corner
perfect
precision shield shapes
shining
or dusty
bronze, grey, gone
and fusty
old lady profiles
young lady profiles
different looking in the shadowy hand
of an eight year old
counting out for sweets
the face
of somebody’s Mother, Aunt,
Sister
owner of the land
piled up
and forgotten or
checked individually
each one representing things
I can only speculate over
in pint glasses
and taverns

Fetch my purse
dig deep in the pocket
goodbye old coins
you are no longer there
and maybe you should have never been
but
I enjoyed all the looking we did