Counting Dimes

Counting dimes in the coffee shop dangling earrings peeling orange rinds, stuffing her mouth sitting on her behind. She had guts in her soul enough to face the sun and what she had done. Her tattoo came to life. Loosening her hair, she kicked the garbage can. Shaking bells on her toes, she traveled the land. Sand neath her sandals. Face up to the moon stirring in the brine, it was her season to shine. Who else did she know who had become undone. She pines, she whines. The geese flew southward. No one else gets to walk into someone's life and then promptly walk out! Counting dimes, the church bells pealed; golden braids she made with her hands, strand by strand. Hand in hand, in prime time; shook off her golden rings letting them stew in the brine. Ominous signs told her it was her season to shine. Rolling to the sea, rolling to the sea. That's what she could be.