The Game Poem by Kevin Parkin

the game

Gently, she sighed.
Brightly, he stared.

Praying in the dark
Gentle night
in the gentle air
As a thousand stars
Glared down on the tick-tock world.
As the clouds gathered
And shrouded
and the lonely owl
Played sentinel
to an existence
Centered, playing
with values - and in
an inside room, another
piece is played, shuffled
across to KB-3
and a stifled yawn
with outflung arm
ends then game.

Gently, they
Died.