all we have at times
our recollections, harvests
even our forfeitures–
what we give in penance
what we sought and forgot
longed for, abandoned
takeaways from life, both lived
and dreamed in withdrawal
small things, less than expected
tokens for real rewards
sometimes much larger, even profound
like the mystery of a sunset
loose change in our pockets
scraps left on a dinner plate
barely enough keeping us alive
not enough to die for
Poetic Alchemist 