Coins Lost Beneath the Surface

A coin slips through my fingers,

plinks against stone below,

dark water swallowing the clink,

ripples folding tight like closed eyes.

Coins scatter in shadows,

caught between light and loss,

each one a tiny wish sunk deep

beneath the restless surface,

touched by passing hands,

forgotten as the water blurs

and softens edges until they vanish.

I watch the circles break

and fold into quiet again,

hope sinking slow,

a weight pulled down by silence.

Wishes don’t float here.

They gather dust,

quiet coins

where no one looks.