28 March 2011
We had our share of Monopoly matches,
The Game of Life.
And we did love our cards.
Red and blue decks of Bicycle playing cards
With patterns that belong more on a book of spells
Than a deck of cards.
We also tried our damnedest
To speak with the dead.
I thought your dad was a medium
I assumed you turned off the lights
In the darkest part of a summer night
And clasped hands
Mother to sister to sister to brother to brother
Listening for a change in father’s voice,
Watching for the candle light to suddenly disappear,
Feeling for the tell-tale shiver
Of spectral contact.
You haven’t channeled the dead
You never wondered
Which spirit slid the felted planchette
To Yes or No.
“Is that you?”
We’d be happy when he’d answer
Or spell his name.
But any ghost is a good ghost
On the night you choose
Séance over spades.
I just figured
That you thought so, too.