by Patrice Vecchione, from Faith and Doubt (New York: Henry Holt, 2007)

Just what can be found with eyes open?

$10,000 in coins, anyway.

Enough to fill a few five-gallon jugs.

When his friend asked for a loan,

“Take this,” said my father,

pointing to a bottle full

of the small money

other men leave behind.

A kind of fath in the possibility

a nickel has.

The wristwatch I wear daily

was left on a park bench

till my father came along.

Once, shortly after my mother left,

bills were due and Dad was down

to soda crackers and cigar butts.

In line to buy a cigar,

with his shoe,

he needed for a fifty.

Most people look in the wrong direction,

locating faith above them.

Pennies don’t fall

from Heaven.

They’re down below; more likely

to be found near sewer drains,

on the asphalt, beside dog droppings

and spent matches, worn shoes

even beggars leave behind.