Checkers

Nobody plays a good game of checkers anymore, Squared off like fierce, ruthless fiends Hunched over, hypnotized by crowned kings And heavy losses spent of jubilee You can't plug in a checkerboard Or marvel at the clink, clink, clink Of counting blips against green bumpers, Though a black can disappear like magic Beneath a sweeping scarred and reddened hand. Nobody plays a good game of checkers anymore. SECOND PLACE WINNER Submitted to "Gems That Slipped Through the Cracks" Sponsored by Edward Ibeh