Pennies Down the Hall

I walked down B-hall,
the one that’s always spiced
with pennies.
Upperclassmen fling them,
trying to catch freshmen off guard.
Every time I see them,
those shining, round,
one-cent moments,
they make me turn my head.
When I thought no one was looking,
I stooped to pick up a few,
they’ll bring me good luck
with him.
I checked the years when
they were minted,
looking for his year,
1988, and made sure
it still shines.
I’ll keep the pennies in my pocket,
let them go through
the washing machine,
and try to bring out that shine
the way he shines.

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