Finders Keepers
When I found a nickel on the sidewalk
I ran to the corner store. Mr. Jones
tapped his fingers on the glass counter,
waiting—I chose a Milky Way.
Going home, I met Ronnie who’d lost a nickel
where I’d found one. My chocolate soured.
I hated Ronnie. When I played hopscotch
he glared at me and called me fruit.
We used to be friends. An orphan,
Ronnie lived with a hunched grandpa
who hung a rusted bed spring
from a tree to make a swing for us.
Ronnie pushed it high and we jumped on,
but once I missed and got hit in the head.
I ran home, the story poured out and mom
told me no more playing with Ronnie.
Finished with my candy, I went home
and slipped a knife into my piggy bank
until a nickel slid out. I took it
to his house and said I found it.
Life went on. I played hopscotch.
Ronnie glared and called me fruit.
