Looking for Loose Change

Looking for Loose Change

You were wearing mis-

matched socks when you

sat on my parents white leather 

mid-century ottoman, the one in their bedroom,

the one with the black legs, 

eyes down, asking my father if you could

marry me.

When I was a girl,

in my pink and blue pajamas, I would

push that ottoman closer

to the polished bureau, climbing

on top of it, looking

for loose change, or really

just anything.

I sat on that same ottoman, 

years later, pushing aside

the folded linens, holding my baby boy, 

after we decided to part, after we made it out 

of the burning building (we would say

to each other), after

we became friends.

Beth Krumholz

Summer 2014