Photo: Ting Him Mak, flickr cc By 2.0
By Fran Finley
Game Night
Some days I feel as if
We are some
Warring game board
Stored in the round
Stored as the earth
When not in use
Until the giant gods
Of the universe
Make ready their game
As we are flattened out
And with the roll of the dice
Our numbers begin to fall
As moves are made on us
With war, peace, abundance,
Starvation, and death markers
While the giant gods
Unleash chaos
Throughout the earth
As they raise their glasses
In a toast
And in their reverie
We fold and crumble
Here and there
And at the end of it all
Those of us left
Pay prayerful homage
To surviving the game board
As the earth is rolled
Once again into the round
And placed back into orbit
To circle the sun
In this vast universe
Of giant gods
Who rule our life…
If only we knew when
Game night falls
And the rules of play
Fran Finley is an artist and poet who has learned to keep a pen and paper close as words often fly into her head and down her arm to escape onto paper or whatever is available at the moment. She is a member of Karen Kenyon’s Gypsy Poets and has been published in San Diego Free Press, Magee Park Poets Anthology, and the San Diego Poetry Annual
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