by Caitlin O’Halloran
There is no wishing without sadness,
no desire without fear.
Such dreams can turn to madness
if you lose what you hold dear.
But a coin tossed into a wishing well
is always a fair exchange.
A quarter for a bit of hope
that things won't stay the same.
I made such a wish years ago,
in a clearing near the woods.
I don't remember how to find it
but I remember how it stood.
Layers of gray stones,
their edges packed with clay,
and moss that grew all over,
and a path that led the way.
What happens to the coin
when your wish comes true?
I’d like to think it shimmers,
with flecks of gold and blue,
transmuting into water,
the well’s power now renewed.
Caitlin O’Halloran is a biracial Filipino-American writer living in Rochester, New York. Her poetry has been published in literary magazines, including ONE ART, confetti, Third Wednesday, The Basilisk Tree, and FERAL: A Journal of Poetry & Art. www.caitlinohalloran.com
Little Leaf Literary Journal 