CheckersThe silence of the cabinAwakened by laughterThe sternness of the solemn pinesSoftened by our loveThe black and red squaresOf strategy and victoryTransformed into pure fun.She jumps me again and againAs the night dusts the sky.Home from the crafts festival,With her miniature outhouseAnd my tiny dolls,In our pjs and slippersWe play to the end."I can still win!" I exclaim,In the once-tranquil living roomOf earth-scented log wallsAnd humble stone accents.We laugh hystericallyUntil we are as red as her kings.Our faces glowWith wide, joyous smilesAnd with tears in the cornersOur eyes sparkleLike the moon blessing and glittering uponAn ocean of memories.In a foreign yet comforting placeWe play that foreign yet comforting game.With corned beef hash in my tummyAnd this moment in my heartMy mom and IGiggle the day away.by Jean Cramer, Lansdale, PA