A bronze Antoninianus
Walking through the woods, I saw it lying therethe earth nudging it up like a secret
A rabbit, or a badger
or some other night shift digger
must’ve brought it to the surface
A bronze Antoninianus
struck about two and a half centuries
before Jesus was nailed to the cross
if you believe that legend
Some poor sod dropped it
lost it
forgot it
left it to sleep under roots and rain
for nearly two thousand years
Then along I come
boot on leaf mould
mind on nothing in particular
and there it was
I picked it up
history in the palm of my hand.
Finders, keepers
Losers, weepers
And the forest shrugs
as it always does
Poetry by JohnJohn
Read 21 times
Written on 2026-05-23 at 07:27
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Melinda K Zarate |
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one trick pony |