Tender Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

I stared and thought,
“How small, how strange, how plain.'
Details my memory
knew so well and
took so often,
never stopping to retain.
I felt a fool
and yet I had to look.
What I beheld
I once held constantly.
I guarded,
trusted,
valued nothing more.
So what was most surprising
was for me to see,
as if I'd never seen before.
Just so it was
when I was months abroad
a fellow Yankee
flashed at me a 'buck.'
I sat dumbfounded,
reassured,
yet awed.
Just so last night,
well-healed I thought,
ill-luck stuck you
before my eyes.
Too shocked for pain
I stared and thought,
“How small, how strange, how plain.'