Floating atop the rippling water,
petals of the trees circle the fountain.
Following the direction in which the wind blows them,
unable to control the swaying of the water around them.

Most are gathered all together,
stuck in a group with a few strayed along the outer rim of the fountain's edge.

Or on the opposite side of the fountain's water,
separated through ways in which no one knows. 

Few petals rest at the bottom,
sunken from an excess of water they absorbed over time.
Time spent in such a place due to circumstances we may never see.
Cents of quarters and dimes, nickles and pennies,

shine from below the reflecting rays along the water's ripples. 

Funny how the ones that are worth some value will always be the heaviest

who break the water's surface tensions,

who ultimately will always sink to the bottom. 

As those pretty in pink petals gather and cope in groups afloat,
those shiny cents are shrouded in the forgotten shadows that relax above them.

Petals free to move and float on,
as cents drown and stay down.

-March 9, 2017