A shiny new penny.
Or perhaps
I am a very old
penny.
Rubbed smooth
to a glow.
I’ve been places.
Seen things.
Carry
many thumbprints.
My dents
are not hidden.
Some you will miss,
but I can tell you.
Tell you how they arrived.
There was a time
where I commodified metaphors.
Representations.
Now I feel shiny (again).
I’m not sure how
it happened.
No one took hold
and polished.
But I’ll take it.
The glow.
Bring the Joy 