Leaving It To Luck

Summer slips through the screens of the cottage

the game of Risk busies the two boys I’m babysitting

while I sit on a couch across from them playing mind games with myself

staring at the phone, wondering if I should call.

On the board, it’s black against green

the battle rages with every dice roll deep into the afternoon.

Derek’s preparing to conquer the Ukraine, giving him all of the world

eight years old and already conqueror of the world

where does a kid go from there?

Derek’s little friend, seeing he’s lost, concedes the world

“I give up!” he says throwing the dice across the room.

They land at my feet.

I promise myself if the dice roll a seven or higher I’ll call you.

It’s a six.

That’s as close as we’ll ever come to anything.

Too bad

cause you’re someone I could imagine taking over the Ukraine with.


6 thoughts on “Leaving It To Luck

  1. Steven Myers

    ukraine migraine.
    those dice are dangeous my friend
    i’m glad it was a 6,
    but maybe they’ll be a part 2 to this poem..
    beginning before the game of risk
    first line…”and i called..”

  2. granbee

    Peter, Peter, Peter–will you never take baby-sitting seriously? Don’t you know you are supposed to read the reverse of the dice total–and call the Mad Hatter?


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