The Transience of Wealth

The Transience of Wealth

The moon is a little coin in the sky.
I look up at her, and sigh,
And wish that my pocket contained such a coin,
Or that such a coin lay upon my chest,
Tied about me like a necklace,
Or that such a coin was tucked into my hand.

The moon disappears in the day,
And I think about how if I had a coin
It would also be that way.

 

 

 

Suzannah Evans was born in 1989 and hails from London. Her poetry has previously been published in Ariadne’s ThreadDrey, Cultured VulturesRaum, and elsewhere; a translation from the German of Erich Kästner will be published in the forthcoming edition of Raum. She has lived in Germany and France, and is currently a postgraduate student at the University of York.

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