Signs of Spring

 I found a penny on the ground today. 

Well, two. I found two pennies. The first one I didn’t pick up — I was running, it felt silly, was it even heads up and I couldn’t be bothered to stop. I thought the pennies have been missing for so long. Was it people who spread luck all along? And when they retreated into their homes they took it all with them, held on to it tight, and left none for the world. 

The second one I passed, I stopped and turned around. It was the middle of a sprint, my heart racing, my breath shouting, I saw the smudged head of Abraham Lincoln and picked it up. Put it in the lining of my running pants. They’ve seen me through some dark miles, these pants, how many New York winter days have they brought me home? 

I walked around the apartment again today. Last night, sneaking outside its corners, looking at its dark windows and painting my outline inside it. When the January sun hangs low it still sets those windows on fire and I can feel it on my cheeks. 

Everything is coming now. 

I could use the extra luck.