Small Change...

An ocean clam, father's huge hand opened each Friday

Silver flashed bright, a nickel, a dime, possibly even a quarter

Siblings dancing excitedly at the prospect of allowance

Grinning from ear to ear, exhilaration barely contained

Boots, mitts, coat adorned, I gleefully ran out of the house 

Spring, slowly peeking around old man winter's curtain

Icy snow melt forming cold rivulets from the driveway to the street

A long watery finger, pointing to my habitual Friday locale

Arriving at my destination, within view, a large rectangular grate

Pitch black, with mud, leaves and debris crusting dark edges

River twigs, tiny little boats cascading toward infinity, destination oblivion

Endless sparkling streams of life unknowingly reaching for mortality

Single snow soaked woolen mitten, peeled back to reveal a glittering wealth

Chilled little hand, somewhat warmed by three coins pasted to palm

One by one, slivers of silver fall, then captured by the pond below

Dancing to and fro until each settle evenly amongst collected friends

Peaceful revere with the sewer, dashed by the slamming of our front door

Father, coat dancing across broad shoulders, unbuckled boots jingling

Steaming kettle, which is his head, belching out an angry red-faced siren

How could it be, I am the object of his grotesque displeasure?

Brisk air flashes against my warm buttocks, balls, and tackle

Shiny coins dancing aloft, captured by the morning sun upon shards of light

Strange perspective, glittering change punctuated by sharp smacks of pain

Tears blur the composite, a fresh wail to welcome each searing assault

Lesson earned, processed, then awkwardly downloaded into my psyche

Money is a treasure that must be respected, a gift I did not deserve

Resolved I was, to never again take from father a dime which I did not earn

Somehow, in the back of my mind, I knew this lesson was not about money

Shaving grey whiskers, I reflect upon the fateful day long since passed

Small change was not being tossed in a sewer, each coin represented love

I did not feel deserving of love, nor the gifts a father bestows upon his child

Unreservedly, I knew myself as a beggar, stealing scraps from another child's table

Hold your greatest possessions with an open hand

Fear not they should fall, fly away nor be taken

Each moment of your life is a treasured gift

We soar atop currents of unconditional love