Naming Trump


After the shuffle there always is
The deal. Then bidding is done and won.
There comes a time early in the game
When the question must be asked
And answered, "What is trump?"
After the posturing and puffery
It is time to declare the suit--certainly
No spades, and definitely not hearts.
Better to be diamonds or clubs.

When the hand is to be played out,
Cards laid on the table, each in its turn.
Strategy would be nice; also to remember
Previous tricks played and how each
Player tries to deceive or finesse.
There will be a winner--and losers.   
__________

This Old House


There it is.
Black and white.
Graffiti sprayed large
Black on white.

“Speak the
Truth, even if
Your voice
Shakes.”

It is spray painted black,
Toxic on asbestos shakes.
Long vacant, its blank stairs
Peek through weeds and neglect.

Plywood patches, plied where
Glass used to be. Shingles curl
Asphalt sneers. Rain gutters weep,
Leaking yesterday’s tears.

This house speaks on mute,
Beckons, in its squalid vibrato,
Of better times gone, when
It was a home to hearth and hope.

Now, here it stands still, vacant,
Inhabited by the homeless. Empty
Except for the hollow men who
Sleep rough on hardluck floors.

This house speaks its truth
To anyone who will see it.

In the gray of the invisible,
Inhabited by its vacated truth.