A Penny Heads Up is Good Luck

Dark
   rain
     pouring
Soaking me cold to the bone.
Copper penny
       dropping into
           a shallow puddle
Landing in front of me.
Heads up.

Good luck?

I wish,
But every turn I make every choice
I always seem to end up gone,

           Alone
 
In an empty field.
       
       Wind pushes in,
But doesn’t shift my drenched hair,
It just makes me colder.

I flip the penny                     around  
                         around and             in my hand,

Knowing my fingers will smell of metal later.

I think again, and then slide the penny into my damp pocket,
Hoping luck will end up on                 my side.
Afterall a penny heads up is good luck, right?