Tuesday, February 17, 2015


I am hopeful
when the down-facing
deck is full of secrets.
The reds and blacks
slide into their
numerical places
their suits
beautifully useful.
I don't want to
exhaust too quickly
the supply of
what I don't know,
try to sort the bright
up-turned faces,
until I finally
see the traps
and can't undo them.
I submit with
the single seven of clubs
blocked by the ill-chosen
six of hearts,
and the fuel of
secrets exhausted.


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