On the rug
I see a quarter
that flew from my watch pocket
when I peeled off the jeans
to put them in the wash

And I at once regret that it’s lying there
when I could have put it in the hand
of the bundled up houseless person
on the corner 
but found it too much work
to dig it out of that constricted pocket
while seated in the warm car
I had no folding money to offer
but I could have passed it on

I regret that I’m no longer the sort
to wait to toss it into
the collection plate 
of a church I no longer attend
and do not trust

So full of regret 
for it still being here 
when it might have been doing 
something else more worthy
or less worthy
At least would have
been doing something

I take it outside
and fling it at the sky

I do not hear it
come down

Could it have become
a star for someone
to follow

or am I just 
so full of regret
for all the good
I haven’t done
and all the faith
I do not have

that all I have left tonight
is a dim hope
for this absurdity
to open someone’s eyes 
to a brighter hope
of doing

May my wasted coin burn
in the night sky
above something out there
just as absurd
and worthy as
the last time
this happened