Couch-Diving

Seems we've lost
that something special,
once caught between
our nervous hands.

I can reach
into the couch—
memory crustily preserved—
and return with no more than a dime.

One day, perhaps,
I'll remove all the cushions,
give the cover a wash,
and find the bounty
we surely lost.

For now, I prefer,
viewing things as they were
with the occasional cents
on my dollar.