No longer do I wish up on
the evening’s first star.
My eye may catch a glint of coin
on the ground I only walk on.
Three on a match – no worry;
Spilled salt shaker – no concern;
Thunderstorm in a meadow – no apprehension.
A ladybug tickles across my arm
but I ignore the signs.
An old horseshoe saved
gets tossed with the trash.
I lay my hat on the bed,
walk under ladders,
caress the black cat in my path.
But
I do knock on wood.
Yet I will whisper a prayer.
Often St Anthony recovers my lost items.
Therefore some speck of hope must remain.
Written by Renee Butner – Clemmons, North Carolina – United States
Renee Butner is a published poet, mother, grandmother and chocolatier/ice cream shop owner. Renee lives in Clemmons, NC, but dreams of someday living at the beach. Her poem “Forest King” earned a place in the Highland Park Public Art Poetry Contest, and her poem “Silver Moments” won second prize in the Piedmont Plus Silver Games. Her poems have appeared in more than twenty-five publications, including NC Poetry in Plain Sight, Acta Victoriana, Haiku Journal, 45 Magazine Women’s Literary Journal, and two “microchaps” for Origami Poems Project. Her website is www.reneebutner.wordpress.com.
Feature Photo by Thiago Matos
45 Magazine Poetry Journal 
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