The Domino Effect
The blue domino
tin in the closet
makes me think in multiples
of five. How
many games did we
play? Five, ten, fifteen,
twenty, two thousand…
How many times did
I sing you Help Me,
Wanda, and listen
to stories about
how Grandpa always
tried to block the game?
I can’t add these games
and stories up to
anything but a
wish for more. Memo-
ries collapse into
each other, a pile
of your focused eyes
large through your glasses,
your hand hovering
to place your last piece.
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