By Zalmai Roashan

You are Dealt a Hand of 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, or Seven,
Random, Unpredictable, Unforgiving.

As You Try Sorting them Day and Night,
Unleashing your Bag of Tricks both "On" and "Off-sight".

With Each Card you Place for Bid,
Your Heart Quickens its Pace a Tad.

As you Win, Loose or get a Draw,
Gods Reveal What you Could Not Foresaw.

Family, Friends and/or a Foe,
Encourage you Continually to Go.

For Each the Path Seems Very Clear,
Of What You Do Not Know or Could Not Hear.

Uneasy, Unwilling, You Play Along,
Weakly Within, Outwardly Strong.

At Every Bend, or at a Crossing,
You Wish for a Light, When You Attempt Passing.

But, at Game's End with Nothing More,
You and Your Allotment Head out the Door.

Zalmai Roashan
5-20-2003
(sa, 32000 ft asl)