Spit

April 20, 2009
By Eliza Goodpasture SILVER, Richmond, Virginia
Eliza Goodpasture SILVER, Richmond, Virginia
5 articles 0 photos 1 comment

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.

The author's comments:
Spit is a card game that has become a traditiona between my friends and I at the beach every year.

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This article has 3 comments.


on Apr. 30 2009 at 8:17 pm
Eliza Goodpasture SILVER, Richmond, Virginia
5 articles 0 photos 1 comment
thanks!

on Apr. 29 2009 at 10:32 pm
blackamethyst GOLD, Centerville, Ohio
11 articles 0 photos 133 comments
good poem. I also like Sonya Sones, and your work is kindof similar to hers. cool

on Apr. 28 2009 at 8:50 pm
DinosoarJen DIAMOND, Scottsville, New York
86 articles 0 photos 84 comments

Favorite Quote:
Just another casualty.
It's sad but true.
And even dead I'm still ahead
of most of you.

I love how you wrote this, kind of like Sonya Sones, Stories in poem form cease to amaze me.


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