Aching Hands

My hands ache
with age.

“Is this a palsy
shake or shake
of rage?”

My oldest wager,
against the self,
stacked the odds…

[and stacked the deck]

…to be clear,
against all odds,
that I would live to see
the coming days.

There’s nothing to
be angry over,
in any case.

But I’ve lived.
I have learned.
I clutched what was
dealt in turn.

“God, what of the things I have earned?”

I won the hand
and smiled proudly,
my river stands,
a paper-victor, loudly,
to the Dealer, declaring,

“I’ll see you again!”

As I floated down the river,
clutching my chips
in these aching

©️ CG Tenpenny, 2018.

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