Changed Stars and Spare Change

The paper crinkled between my fingers.

The lost valuable trash that had fluttered up at me

flapped in the crisp, biting breeze.

The dull, familiar color of green is what I recognized first.

Then the well-known monument jumped up at me,

begging to be recognized.

I looked left, right, left before cautiously folding the parchment

that would buy me my first meal in—

How long had it been? Too long, I decided.

A smile, the first in a while, stretched my face

into an unfamiliar expression,

as an unfamiliar emotion coursed through me.

My stomach growled in expectation

as I ran a hand through my long-ago washed hair.

“I guess stars can be changed,” I muttered,

patting my pocket, now worth more than I was worth myself.