A penny, lying in the stale office
air, beneath the shuffling of papers, beyond
bright clicks, taps, black ergonomic office
chair. That clouded dirty penny—face up
on the carpet, centered in some dark stain,
coffee, water spot, the rubbing of soles
in and out of the cubicle—shines brightly.
Brown silhouette burnished with rain cloud
and gray light, muffled by daydreams and tinted glass.
That penny, atop a twisted bouquet
of frizz and wool, gathers its dignity
in the hours of the work day, outside
an empty pocket, among paper clips
and crumbs, humble brass, ringing smooth and round.