POKER PLAYERS
Magnolia time,
Each tightly folded and curving bud
Glittering palely in the street lamp’s light.
No-one walking out,
Not this early in the morning.
Only magnolia shadows awake,
Playing tag with rain puddles
Catching the moon.
What a game,
Both players hidden from sight,
Flicking joyful flashes of silver
Into the grey morning,
Into the quivering air.
Hiding their great strength and skill.
Poker players!
Both of them.
Holding winning hands,
Slapping them on night’s waiting table,
Challenging each other in storm and fury,
Until they fall out.
Lose patience.
Let’s hope they play nice tonight.
© 2023 Gwen Grant

Delightful Gwen! Such a pleasure to read! Hope you are feeling much better, and long may that continue! x
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Thank you very much, Sharon. Glad you liked the poem. I really identified with your Post on people looking at their phones
all the time. I was at the hospital last Friday and even in the Clinic, it was all phones!
Gwen.
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Hi Gwen, I hope all works out well at the hospital! Yes, these phones are everywhere!!! Looking forward to your next poem! Kind regards.
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