Here's a draft. Let me know what you think.
A double-buttoned timepiece,
two men at chess.
One reaches a stained ivory bishop,
punches the near button.
The other reaches the dark, moves, slaps his peg.
Back and forth, a season of choices.
Cheating doesn’t follow.
This is not about.
This woman drops her beer,
walks into a barracuda November.
Her foot in its pump pauses above a damp walk.
Rain pebbles around her like crystal.
Her man turns back to tying flies,
filaments wrapping filaments.
Too much game for mate,
the white and black marble.
These pieces unmatched. Nothing fits
the reflection of the ceiling: plaster painted
gold, burgundy, alabaster. A colored robin’s egg.
Her expensive hair will soon be soaked.
His hair stays short, is noncommittal.
Comments