By Paul Dolby
Some dimes, some nickels in my satchel, oh
If I had quarters too! Then I would hear
And feel the jangles, chimes remind me—no!
Those days at prayer chanting words austere—
So flustered, I had fallen; the coins flew ways
Upon the cold ground and rolled
Among the cracks my pleasure is astray
In between the lines and I and I sold
My heart my rhythm for a beat
Satchel and lackluster metal bits
And slammed on the concrete
I lay in gum and spit
Sweet seraph, star on high, from world unbound
Come here, come now, and I will hold your sound
Author Bio
Paul Dolby
Paul Dolby is a third-year at the University of San Diego studying Philosophy and English with a Classical Studies Minor. He loves reading, working at USD’s Writing Center, translating Latin texts, enjoying delicious food, and sleeping. Thanks for stopping by!