I am a penny blacked and scraped flat,
like the bottom of a well dug hole,
rusted by life; Bureaucrat,
heart working by rote,
who cannot get back
courage or faith
to give intact
her heart of longest longing.
I want to be a shiny penny again,
a small, copper version of the sun,
unsullied by life; Then,
brilliant with hope,
unencumbered limbs
are not afraid
to entwine him in
light of longest longing.