the card game

kings and queens
and jacks
of hearts,
a small pot
scattered in
the middle.
the ten of diamonds,
the ace of
spades, the
royal flush,
a straight, a
deuce or two
to make the house
full. and
the rum is warm,
there is no
ice, and the
game drags on
and on into
the safe embrace
of morning
light while
old friends
have gotten
older as each
hand was played,
and memories
laid out,
embellished
and sweetly frayed.
so few days
left ahead,
like these,
and fewer nights