New Year Games
With every shuffle of the deck
we play a different hand,
your life, then mine, resolving
on one last roll of the dice.
You go first; pull spades, black
suits reminding me how, inverted,
hearts on short stems have to
pump extra hard. I kiss each cube
before casting the two together,
reluctant to admit I have no ace
in the hole. What a single pip
foretells is my step; it's taken.
A consequence always follows.
I draw Joker. No card's unused.
© Maureen E. Doallas