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A Bit of Luck

This place is always more miserable
when the sun is hidden behind
that watery steel gray curtain.
I was walking through the drizzle
to put away my cap and gown
for safe keeping before graduation.
I saw my mentor and called out
to the man who took my writing of coal
and cut and polished it into diamonds
so it can stand alone against the world.
We started to walk and chat
about the four years we have known
one another and my future plans
when a copper glimmer caught my eye,
breaking through the cold, wet black top.
Dr. Myers stopped and stooped down
to pick up the tiny Lincoln portrait
and said, "This is good luck-
a present from me to you,
may this keep you safe in your journeys
and help cause the poems to flow."
At that moment the day got brighter
and the anxiety about next year ceased.
I did not need to have a job or advice
nor did I want to further update my resume
and worry about getting lost in the world.
I just needed a gesture of luck
to remind me what is really important:
Poetry should always be flowing.

6 May 10

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yes it should indeed. good job.
 — psychofemale

 — bear