If she loved you once, she might love you twice
but this is her game, it is played as solitaire.
No fine king of diamonds, no mad jack of spades;
no fancy club for the lovelorn where you
can outmaneuver with a winsome grace.
This is not the game where anyone wins.
It is one heart played and nothing more to spare.
Like a dreamy master game, one step forward,
crisscross, slide three over but the window will close.
Set a table as if waiting for two– although
no service is forthcoming, no challenge of wits;
not even remembrances served with an aperitif.
After a cleansing fast, she may even return;
but this is her game and still true to one heart
it is played alone, remains a lively solitaire,
a long running, loss-defying life of solitaire.
Ananda, my apologies, the film was “The Queen’s Gambit.” (A bit embarrassing!)
Your thoughtful poem and the beautiful photo go together well, Cynthia. And I enjoyed the words you put together, original phrases like “No fine king of diamonds, no mad jack of spades; no fancy club for the lovelorn where you can outmaneuver with a winsome grace.” Lovely closing lines too.
I thank you, Jet. I love all genres–fiction/nonfiction/poetry and a few subgenres–and always appreciate your feedback. The chair has been on my mind every time I pass it on walks–it triggers other stories, as well.
I got your analogy to solitaire that once one’s love is lost, it”s a risky game to expect it to return. Maybe chess might apply here as well.
Yes, chess would work. Thanks for reading.
Great poem! A player alone at home. It seems like a sad fate and reminds me of having a picture of someone I loved. It’s there but not, like at your table. Thanks for the great poem!
That was a neat response, thanks!
A bit sad
Maybe not if one likes solitude/independence…thanks, Derrick! (Was a response to a film I saw.)
Yes, indeed
Lovely
Thank you, Ananda, appreciate that.
the poem and picture come together with a haunting beauty
Thanks-I do try to pair photos with my content the best I can. I was inspired in part by the film The Gambit Queen– but when I saw that chair, the poem first began to form. Often images can give rise to entire stories or poems, sometimes nonfiction, as well. Appreciate your thoughts.