Spit

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Bursts of laughter
the hard sound
of cards hitting the table

I don’t recall
who first brought us cards.

We’ve just always played.

That first time, we sat on the floor
between the beds.

Bursts of laughter
the hard sound
Of cards hitting the floor.

This year
Lucie
said she was too old
to play anymore.
The bursts of laughter
the hard sound of cards
hitting the glass table
that wobbles
weren’t inviting
to her anymore.

That year, not so long ago,
when Caroline was finally old enough to play.

The year in the future,
soon
when my sister Rose will be old enough to play.

Bursts of laughter
the hard sound
of cards
hitting my heart.





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This article has 3 comments. Post your own now!

Eliza G. said...
Apr. 30, 2009 at 8:17 pm
thanks!
 
blackamethyst said...
Apr. 29, 2009 at 10:32 pm
good poem. I also like Sonya Sones, and your work is kindof similar to hers. cool
 
DinosoarJen This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Apr. 28, 2009 at 8:50 pm
I love how you wrote this, kind of like Sonya Sones, Stories in poem form cease to amaze me.
 
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