THE GAME

It was morning when he left that night
I think the month was May
They drank until broad daylight
With one last game to play
The cards were on the table
He had spades in his hand
He waited until the mood was stable
Then he executed his plan
Big Joe stared at the poker face
That Dan wore with pride
Joe arched his back in defiant grace
Dan took it all in stride
Joe said, with a face so blank,
“Are there hearts in your hand?”
Dan organized his cards by rank;
Said, “With this hand I’ll stand”
Joe, said again, ready to fight
“Are there hearts in your hand?”
Dan held his cards to the light;
“Go fish,” he said, “or throw in your hand”

©Copyright April 7, 2007 by Terry Sutherland