a penny on the street, 699 in my pocket. just one penny short it's strange that, while i hold so many in my palm, all identical, bar some slight green tinge that coats a corner or two, only faintly disfigured, the one i don't have appears to be worth exceptionally more. aren't all my pennies worth to me just as much? i feel its absence more than their presence. maybe someday somebody will pick up my penny, maybe it rains, maybe it shines, and never again shall i hold it safe in my pocket. while i may find another bouquet, i will always remain one short, two short, three short. always short after loss.