i found a coin on the road tonight,
rusted and driven on,
track marks printed across it and slightly warped and bent.
i tipped it between my fingers and threw it up
in the air,
watching it twirl,
flick from side to side,
heads to tails,
heads to tails.
the multiple colours of light glinting off of it,
in sparks,
it hovered for a second in the air,
then fell.
i had turned away momentarily but whipped around fast enough to hear the melodic ting of it hitting the ground.
YOU ARE READING
the lowest heights
PoetryI thought to write this book as a little more abstract and informal because I needed something that's just a small escape from everyday life because, as all of you probably know, life is hard. I hope you enjoy these small poems and little rants. Tha...
