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#rummy
In the small kitchen, A toddler sits near the window, Laughing at the older woman across The pile of cards at the table’s center. The girl is older now, Pink hair and heavy makeup Playing a game of rummy with her Grandmother, who looks at her with only pride. The older woman’s hair is streaked with gray, The girl has traded her colored hair For black and her makeup is simple. She has moved on to playing Poker. The table is a mess of wedding magazines and notebooks, The girl holds one of the magazines in her left Hand, diamond glistening as her grandmother Smiles to herself from behind a notebook. The grandmother wears a lavender dress As she fixes the girls veil. The girl is fussing with the bouquets Of flowers that cover the table. The old woman sits alone at the Table in front of a computer, The girl is chatting excitedly, Palm trees visible in the background. They both sit at the table More serious than ever as the Girl’s hand rests on her bulging stomach. She wears a suit while she sits By the window, a pink car seat Rests on the table in front of her. The grandmother is small and shaking With every hand she puts down. The girl has cut her hair shorter than ever, The same color as that of the little girl Sitting on her lap and toying with cards. The girl sits alone at the table, Her eyes red and puffy from crying, Knuckles white from clutching her cell phone And a crib rests next to the chair. The table is covered in flowers and gifts. It’s surrounded by sobbing people in black. The girl does not cry as she fixes her daughter’s Hair by the window.
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Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 1:45 PM UTC
The Table
In the small kitchen, A toddler sits near the window, Laughing at the older woman across The pile of cards at the table’s center. The girl is older now, Pink hair and heavy makeup Playing a game of rummy with her Grandmother, who looks at her with only pride. The older woman’s hair is streaked with gray, The girl has traded her colored hair For black and her makeup is simple. She has moved on to playing Poker. The table is a mess of wedding magazines and notebooks, The girl holds one of the magazines in her left Hand, diamond glistening as her grandmother Smiles to herself from behind a notebook. The grandmother wears a lavender dress As she fixes the girls veil. The girl is fussing with the bouquets Of flowers that cover the table. The old woman sits alone at the Table in front of a computer, The girl is chatting excitedly, Palm trees visible in the background. They both sit at the table More serious than ever as the Girl’s hand rests on her bulging stomach. She wears a suit while she sits By the window, a pink car seat Rests on the table in front of her. The grandmother is small and shaking With every hand she puts down. The girl has cut her hair shorter than ever, The same color as that of the little girl Sitting on her lap and toying with cards. The girl sits alone at the table, Her eyes red and puffy from crying, Knuckles white from clutching her cell phone And a crib rests next to the chair. The table is covered in flowers and gifts. It’s surrounded by sobbing people in black. The girl does not cry as she fixes her daughter’s Hair by the window.
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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.
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 5:56 PM UTC
500 Rummy