By Jane Hyphen
Another day, announced the birds
in non negotiable verse, sharp tools
to cut you from the sack of your sleep
and nick you just enough to feel the pain.
You break into the light of your next turn.
Then you must remember -
Who you are, your place within the game.
Which square are you standing on?
Works days, malleable hours
to enjoy - or are you lost?
Which monsters lie ahead,
or are you dragging grief?
As the pieces near to you
were taken in the coldest blood,
off the board, forever out of range.
Do you dread the next level?
Snakes can lie in wait,
ladders loom, will you climb
so many tiring rungs to reach the top?
Unstable are the winds up there,
you’ve seen so many fail and fall.
It’s so hard but you have to try
and gather things along the route;
small rewards and all the penalties and flaws.
But at the end, everything
is taken off the board
and packed away into the dark.