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Pocket a Coin
I don't deserve to hold these riches.
Upon arrival, I set about,
and saw to it our sure descent
beneath the fields and tides of war
made by those who lay with sisters
and know us from our old estates.
We were to pass by unimpeded
by the rattles of smoke and ire,
delirious with fevered hope
of one clear exit towards our freedom.
We wished to lose none,
and chose to risk little.
We set about at the sound of battle overhead.
I was but one of many who sought to bathe in gold,
and stumbled on a tomb of glitter,
made for the taking away.
I wasn't the first, nor the last, to pocket a coin.
