craps shoot at thought café

in backroom
at the thought café
game of craps
was ongoing for as long
as I recall.

most of the regulars
were there with
their money folded
long ways between
middle and ring fingers.

action was a little
slow, and regulars
were looking for new
meat.

they looked my way,
and I shook my head, no
and said, “I don’t gamble.”

“why are you smoking that
damn pipe and drinking
cabernet?” they asked.

I suddenly came to be
me
an individual
some say unique among myriad
white brethren

Having no religion or direction
I drift in a seeming random route
only connecting with others
by short -lived accident
from which I rebound

The short duration of

my brief lifetime

spirals slowly

inevitably

down

Until at last my beauty crashes
as I join my fellows who fell before me
and mingle with others once unique
in an ephemeral blanket
of a southern snow fall

which melts

eyes

eyes hold you there
applause subsides
auditorium empties

another night
another show
whispers heard backstage

stage door creaks on
rusted hinges --
opening, allows players' exit

alleyway awake with footsteps
summer moths flutter naked light-bulbs
on aging brick walls -- casting eerie shadows

shuffle a dozen shoes
to street beyond
on the way for a coffee or drink

aura of performance just played fades --
just ahead of lightning and thunder
actors reach the street

A little thing from old site's blog........................

The canary just dropped dead
while swinging in its cage
just one chirp of fear and dread
a definite pollution gauge

The dog whines scratching at the door
attempting to gain fresh air
escape is what he's begging for
an exit from his usual lair

That fly that's been buzzing all day
is twitching on the oval rug
I guess he's down and out to stay
one less fly, I sit and shrug