Stone For A Pence



While skipping aside a swollen Mississippi,

ever casting my reel for possible pleasures,

the clever melody I hummed came to a brief halt.

“Indeed,” a rare treasure I had found.

One ghost of great weight sinking, but not sunk,

by his own device…




“A stick of assistance!” besought my old friend.

Until…“Ah…” recognition had passed…

His vision was then clearer of a time not long before.

The Greek Mask in the mirror was also in need of a loan.

Yours truly had begged for a pence from this same

sinker in need. Though, he bestowed even less cents than

I’d have you believe.

Now that our roles have been changed,

along with the mask,

I tossed back to him the same gift I was given,

then let out a laugh, though not all at once,

just enough for back-pay.

Once again I picked-up the same melody I had hummed,

and decided to call it a day.

Seeing no reason to stay or to gloat,

I then headed back home, thinking to myself,

“How long could one float with a pence made of stone?”