"I am solitary as grass. What is it I miss? Shall I ever find it, whatever it is?" - Sylvia Plath
A Game of Patience, 1937 - Meredith Frampton
Not Just
Another Hand of Solitaire.
PATIENCE at
Spirit Knob
Caught in a hand of innumerable folly
she sat weary of immutable
measure and reluctance.
Always make the play,
and forever play
your ace.
Implied accusations follow
a flip of a card.
Transfer all that frees.
Not just another winning hand.
Utterly alone she wallows.
In shuffling indecision
randomizing
all her cards
to be freed
or falter on this
tormented fence of suspicion
of hollow zeal
and no more moves to play.
Linking to Tess Kincaid's Magpie Tales