Tuesday, August 21, 2018

A Turn in the Game

The friendly treachery of the other players
Seems to fade away with the realization
I am playing cards with the devil.

No matter how I want the numbers,
Higher or lower, or a conjured suit
Of earth, air, fire or water,
He stands at the table with a smile.

On the final hand, where my opponents stick me
And I see all my schemes go up in flames
I say, finally, “nice game, devil.”

But the scorer informs me
I had won, not lost, the hand,
For my bid was for more than I remembered.
It was then I heard the devil laugh.