Bingo at the Casino

The hushed sound of the numbered balls,
Pocking the walls of the confined box,
Shushed by the air blowing them around,
Until they are plucked out,
Each number called out in a measured voice.
Tables laid out for the players,
Initially holding ashtrays,
Bright orange-red circles set at regular intervals.
They are filled during the game,
A player surrounded by bingo blotters,
Circling her place, defining her boundary.
They sit in harmony with the troll dolls
Of the lady next to her.
Numbers are called, tension rises,
Carrying prayers on the cigarette smoke as it climbs.
Quiet comments between players can be heard,
Mostly not defined.
This continues, with each number that is called,
The waiting becomes more intense.
A rustle in the room indicates that someone is close,
Excitement fills the room,
Suddenly, bingo is called from a different spot,
Sneaking in, flanking the paper rustling player.
A sigh is exhaled, the bingo confirmed,
Tension gone for the moment.
Papers get torn off and wadded up,
And it begins again.
The hushed sound of the numbered balls,
Pocking the walls of the confined box,
Shushed by the air blowing them around,
Until they are plucked out,
Each number called out in a measured voice.

Autumn

Autumn is arriving,
Dissecting summer
By slices of wind
Tearing foliage,
Tossing it around.
Carrying off the last
Splash of floral color,
Coating the sky in gray.
Quaking trees
Can, and will,
Hide that lost kite,
As long as possible.
Summer's refugee,
Safe, momentarily,
Then tossed up,
Up, the last strands
Of summer
Fleeing on its' tail.

Disaster

She courted disaster, absolutely,
Purposefully.
With her dashing air of
Go to hell,
And a brittle laugh,
Tossed over her shoulder.
Disaster sat at the bar,
Drinking hard, scowling.
Even more so when she
Came into his orbit.
Erratic, beautiful, taunting,
Laughing, drinking.
He was her undoing,
Dance the steps,
Say the right thing.
Pretend to be impressed
By her careless attitude.
Disaster took her with him,
Drove out, away from the lights.
She broke before they were far,
Asking questions, attitude now fear.
He refused to answer,
She was a gnat, to be slapped away.
And he did, slap and more.
These days, she is broken,
No longer out at the bar.
For fear of having
Disaster
Visit again.

Names

I wonder if, like my pets,
I should have many names
That tell my story.
Hello, my name is Survivor,
Witness, Flotsam-dragged-along,
But you should know,
I became Observer,
and The One Doing Things Differently.
Some changes turned me into
It Cost a lot, on an Emotional Level,
And currently,
I am Brave Enough to Just Be.
Which is hard enough on any
Given day!

Sun

Should I sit a while in the winter sun,
And gather thoughts in clumps of nothing.
I would sit on the cold, cold rock,
And pull them out of thin air.
One day I did this, until the chill came round,
And my final action was
To take the clump of thoughts,
And hurl it far away!