by Jane Coryell

Created on: July 28, 2008

The Memories I Have, 1976

In all the ways I can remember
losing was your biggest game.

There was a time when you held it all
in the palm of your hand-
but lost it to a joker, a lover, a bottle.

And then you poured your sorrows
onto a big empty table, or room, or cup.

But somehow you managed to
leave it all behind-
every memory, every pain, every lonely tear.

For who? For what?
a last reliving of the things you brought?
the laughter you somehow twisted into a lonely cry?
or the children who bore the numbing pain?
or the wife who suffered for both you and I?

Why did you have to give up and die?
Losing always was your biggest game.

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