by Glen Martin Fitch
I stared and thought,
“How small, how strange, how plain."
Details my memory
knew so well and
took so often,
never stopping to retain.
I felt a fool
and yet I had to look.
What I beheld
I once held constantly.
I guarded,
trusted,
valued nothing more.
So what was most surprising
was for me to see,
as if I'd never seen before.
Just so it was
when I was months abroad
a fellow Yankee
flashed at me a "buck."
I sat dumbfounded,
reassured,
yet awed.
Just so last night,
well-healed I thought,
ill-luck stuck you
before my eyes.
Too shocked for pain
I stared and thought,
“How small, how strange, how plain."
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011