She clutched her fifteen quarters
for dear life and
if she let go she knew
there was nothing else to cling to
But she was not sad.

The coins played a one-note song
as they hit the counter
and she paid her dues
at the county clerk’s office
before walking across the street
to the liquor store.

Seventeen, fourty-five, eleven, nine
One box, one straight,
and an easypick for measure
and there’s the three bills
from her back pocket.

And just because she’s never won yet
doesn’t mean she’ll never win
at least that’s what she tells herself
when she walks seven miles
because she can’t afford a bus ride
home.