LOOSE CHANGE

It is fate’s
fickle dagger
stabbing
at our peace.
An uncontrollable
wreath
sometimes undesired,
others the source
of dread.
Yet in some
one that fuels
a sigh
from when
that precious, unplanned blessing
fills out hearts
with a joy
as vast as the sky.
In either case
good or filled with disgrace
we can’t help asking why.