Tonight, Crystal broke a cracker on the floor. And as she tried to pick up the pieces it kept breaking again and again until all that was left was one chance for retrieving a handful of crumbs. She wanted to cry. But that seemed so pathetic. Instead Crystal held the crumbs. And she tried to name them. Fido. Rudolph. Rocky. James Bond. You know… names like that. Names that can fight for themselves.
Playing said game
by myself see how
long before check mate
sets in I move pawns
so many all young
Bishop sits idly by
strong silent strength
while old Castle yawns
into the power of stalemate.
Comes the day when
said unforeseen earthquake
will shake everything
in the house marble chessboard
included now bishops and castles
and pawns of believable moments
collide with what cannot be sure force
destroy every thing every piece every bit
every thing every piece every bit we call game.
Longtime member of Denver’s thriving poetry community and former publisher of Rosebud Forum magazine, Roseanna Frechette holds great passion for the bohemian underground and all things alternative/independent when it comes to art. Interpretive dancer and yogi as well as writer and performance poet, she has equal respect for pure beauty of nature and edgy intrigue of urban culture. She tends to create from whatever ground she happens to be standing on.