Everyone's A Loser
A handful of copper
coins
my hand green from
holding them so tightly
reluctant to spend even
one
of the twelve our
father gave us.
They have to last us an
hour
among the whistles and
ringing bells.
My sister plays the one
arm bandits,
wins sixpence on the
penny falls,
a shilling on the
Allwin spiral
then loses it all on
the grab-a-doll.
I am drawn to the
fanfare bugle;
the taran-tara of the
horse racing game.
There's a trick to
this. A penny bet
on one of six horses
along the motor driven
four feet of
dome-covered metal grass.
Red and blue, easy bets
at tuppence win,
green for threepence,
yellow for sixpence
and white will net you
a shilling
if you're the luck of
the Maker.
Not God, we understand,
but the man
who made the machine
and always wins.
I want to bet on the
black horse
but there's no button
to press.
4 comments:
Smiling over here. You've brought back a childhood summer for me my friend. Oh wait - there's a tear rolling down my face. Oh you. Shaking my head. You invoke many deep feelings with your words Rachel.
Thank you kindly, dear lady
This is so rich with sensory memory. Thank you for allowing me to come along. Beautifully done.
Thank you. I wish I could remember where this was.
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