I think you might have dropped this here.
I think you might have left these things behind, stuck to the bottom of your shoe
and fallen off, or caught on a tiny piece
of lint inside your pocket, and let go
when you took a dollar out
to pay the toll.
I think you might have have felt it go,
without even knowing what it was
felt a little tug against your heart
as it blew over
the side
of the bridge.
I think you might have closed your eyes
thought you saw a memory, there
a tiny piece of history, there
long enough ago that it means
almost nothing, now
long enough ago that it meant
everything, before.
I think you might have said goodbye
paused for just a second, there
mid-sentence you trailed off
gathered thoughts and carried on
left it there for someone else
to find
and tuck away
inside a pocket
of their jeans
next to a dollar bill,
crumpled up
and waiting for the toll.
I want my change.
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