Silver Dollars

Silver Dollars

a silver dollar from a box of silver dollars, and
books of catalogued stamps, too; and chemistry texts,
and anthologies of detective novels, and sunlight streaming from
double paned storm windows on to a record player and an
out-dated IBM.

a blade of folded a steel leans beside a Spanish rifle,
purple silk drawn about it.

this too comes from 1945, after the Pacific,
in black and white Japan
where a tall man with a promontory nose
stands by an arched bridge beside a slight woman
with dark hair.

all the rest falls from a glossed photograph of that same man,
now in a black suit, with a doe-eyed woman in a wedding dress
hanging on his arm.

from them, him, came the files, the tax returns,
the insurance slips, and receipts, and batteries, and index cards,
a life filed by one, for two.

the room of silver dollars darkens with age, ripens with clutter;
the sun-browned, black-scuffed oak floor boards sat upstairs,
while below a man in his armchair sits, while a woman in rubber gloves with
a dust rag stands beside him, two fingers pressed to his wrist.

the silver dollar rests in my sweating palm,
in a hospital, we stand by a tall man, browned by age,
black hair aged white,
still as a photograph.

–Christian Rees


About loyolapoets

The Greyhound Collective Poetry Revival would like to consider “mission statement” in its simplest terms. Rather than reiterate the boundaries of our task, we simply express our aim: to become a mission – a party of individuals sent out into the world with a message meant to unveil a uniting principle of truth. We define this message as “poetry.” We promote poetry as a viable and vivid art form, alive and accessible. Freed from its ivory tower, our poetry will breathe life into an ailing form while fostering an artful relationship with the greater community. We assert ourselves under the following mantra: “your mouth is a sign of how sacred your life actually is.” As a collective, we write to be sanctified. View all posts by loyolapoets

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