Our Penny

Our Penny I get a letter every month in the mail. Addressed to you and me. It’s from the bank. Telling me we own one penny between us in our joint account. You’ve been gone almost 3 years now. No interest, sad to say. And I know I should call them, remind them that you’re gone. For some reason they didn’t hear me when I called. Or sent the proof. I know I should save the trees in the forest. The horse hooves from glue. BofA from postal bankruptcy. And Chuck, our mailman, the steps. But for some reason, I like seeing your name there in print. Even if for just one penny. I know you’re gone, but for that little moment the rest of the world didn’t hear when I called. Published: Poetry Quarterly