Anthony Liccione 

Imprints 

When I was young,
I thought I was
invincible,
knowing all-
all-powerful.
A youth with
blood of blue.
I thought living
was a shiny penny
spinning continually
on a golden axel
of a distant sun.

Then time came
slipping as sand
through glass,
and I saw a moon
centering my palm-
fingers tracing ego
left behind bones
of a morning rain.

When gravity
overpowered
and pulled down
the passing
traffic lights of age,
a stained copper
penny stopped
its murky twirl.
On the head
of Abraham
encrypted
red blood
I read,
In God We Trust
1968.