Oh God— lay down Your hand,
show Your cards!
We have been here so long,
the game must be over.
Lay down Your hand on this worn,
green felt Earth.
Why do You wear a visor,
never count Your chips?
We have had beauty for snacks,
pain for drinks all these many nights,
sitting in our dim world,
hats tilted down,
cigars, cigarettes
polluting our room.
What do You have?
A straight, a flush,
a full house
even four of a kind
or just a skinny pair?
Maybe You have nothing
or are bluffing?
What chance do we have!
Show us Your hand.
It is about Time.
Published in Verse Wrights