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An Afternoon of Mah Jongg
We catch up on our travels
And our families and homes.
(Not everyone’s on Facebook
Or reveals such stuff in poems.)
The lives we live are parallel
Though sometimes they converge;
So when they do, on food
And conversation we do splurge.
The game is incidental;
Still, we try to do our best
But even if we lose all day,
It doesn’t make us stressed.
An afternoon of mah jongg
Fills the room with clacking tiles.
More important are the faces
Of the players, filled with smiles.
Copyright ©
Ilene Bauer
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