COIN
Two different faces, coin,
so fall as fate may send you,
in negative, the tender,
yet truly neither’s rendered.
And yet in one the same –
sharp opposites defining.
Then firmly choose your side.
Still ask what sense will guide.
And never is it truly
what spins to change as duly,
that sudden halt unruly
for others to see truly.
The edge’s differing faces
you hold in tightened fingers,
its cold in your palm lingers,
while hiding from all gazes
that moment ere the throw.
By candle’s flicker, glancing,
in one brief gleam is dancing
two different faces, coin.
Author: Veron
