Chess Game with Clare
written by: Lori Marchesin
For My Sister
Mosquitos settle on my eyebrows;
I brush them away. Your violet glance
entangles my thoughts; I mutter
how to move knights.
The wind lashes tall grass,
carries the tinkling of silver bells.
Your eyes lower to the board and calculate, —
pale fingers tap at the wooden queen
– Dead!- You whisper-
– I’ll be dead before I can listen to last
cicadas as they sing their tymbal tunes –
Your dilated pupils choke violet.
Darkness grows and hides my shivers.
– Lancers are useless, no chance for pawns
No chance for me –
Your nails tap on wood.
– Good move! The queen is done.
No more games to play-
Aged stars fall into the pond;
pain sneaks through my chest and bites,
bites, bites.
Lori Marchesin (pen name abroad: Paula Grenside) has been writing stories and poems for a long time. She usually composes her poems in English and then translates them into Italian too. Her poems are present in online magazines and anthologies.
Latest posts by Lori Marchesin (see all)
- The Train Blues - September 23, 2024
- Here and There - July 22, 2024
- Armageddon - May 25, 2024
