A Nickel Face Up In The Tar Heads Up Poem by Sarah Mkhonza

Was it tails up, I'd leave it.
This nickel in the tar. One look
the face talks to me. Says I must
admit, it has an ace against me.

Shivering on this cold day in November,
the road calls near the fire place. This
friend, this nickel stuck in tar, rejects
my invitation to go and join it's lot in
my purse. Says it all. Purse of a poor man
worse than your head in the tar.

But what about the risk of disappearing
under the wheel of a car? It's better, says the nickel. At least my head will be crushed to the flat head, and I will live
again the hitch hiker who never got anywhere. My head still heads up.

Months later, I look for the nickel. I
see the circle in the tar, no nickel! She
lies heads up lighting the tar road with
her warrior face. Smiles. 'See, I told you. You should have been a nickel. Nobody
would want you even if they cannot do without you. Here I lie, so take me home.
I am unstuck and so are you.' Together we go and light up the lamp. She sits laughing forever.