Collecting Coins

here I am, much too late,
thinking back to the times when we'd stop at the bank,
where the tellers knew you by first name
and granted you smiles, kind as molasses,
when you asked them in your weathered voice,
“Any new coins today?”

I used to wonder why you did it
I wasn’t a collector of things,
and I was convinced that
you had better things to be doing
than starting a collection for me

You told me every time I visited,
“One day you’ll truly understand worth,
and you’ll be grateful for them,”
and I said “Of course I will be,”

But I didn’t really get it
in the way that little kids
never really do

I am on the cusp of adulthood now,
finally, finally, after so many years
and Mom says you don’t have much longer
Suddenly our eternity is narrowed down to
a year, a few months, maybe even weeks

And even though you’ve long since collected
a brilliant, shiny coin from each state
and presented them to me in a neat little book,
I find myself sick with nostalgia for the days
when you let me weigh thick coin rolls
in the palms of my grubby hands