I remember it so clearly,
The dark oak of the table,
The smell of her cigarette smoke.
We would sit every night and play
500 Rummy.
Then she started to get weaker.
I would watch in horror
As my grandmother’s hands shook
With every set she put down.
The oak table turned to the
Bland plastic of the one in the hospital
And her cigarettes were replaced with
An IV and an oxygen tank.
The next night
I sat in the living room,
Glaring at the empty table
And the unopened pack of cards.
They mocked me.
I dressed in black today,
When everyone tossed dirt
I tossed an Ace of Spades
And an old Zippo.