I have silver thoughts
like I please to be the
tinfoil cover
of your dinner’s leftovers
or the rime ice on
the sidewalk where you go
a silverware you put
in your mouth every day
and forget to wash
the coins you find
unexpectedly in your
filthy pocket
the moonshine mirroring
in your eyes while you smoke at night
or a drop of clear drip
on the tip of your nose
or – this takes some courage
because you might want to
tear it out –
your first gray hair.
I’ll go with the last one.