Penny

Down a deep dark well

A penny is thrown

Not a new one with shine

But a worn one, years old, dull brown and aged

Battered from being tossed around and stepped on

Maybe even run over

With the images rubbed down from years traveling in pockets, cash boxes, and change purses

A penny with a history

A story with a beginning, middle, and end

But no name. No home. No family.

Just a penny making its way on its own

The penny is tossed down the deep well and a wish is made

Fingers pressed firmly against its edges before it catches flight in the crisp air

It seems light as its lifted up on a breeze

Then it travels down, bouncing off the edges of the hole, clicking against the sides

Being pulled by invisible strings

Until finally it stops and rests at its final destination

No fanfare. No remembrances. No celebration.

No hint of the wish that was made.

Just a penny lying in the bottom of the deep well with no more places to go

The end of a journey.