It Was Gone…But Then It Wasn’t





Hail to thee,
Miss Allison P.,
Who rescued me
From standing on line at the DMV
To replace a license
That fell from the safety of my wallet,
Evidently dreaming of a carefree life, 
Living on its own.
But it was corralled by Allison P. 
Before it got too far from me
And resides once again
Behind an acetate window,
Blissfully glancing at the world beyond,
Whenever I open my wallet.