Waiting for Dav



The yellow half-light of
     the coffee house gleams on
          saffron tan and muted green 
               triangular strips of the backgammon board;
                    matching checkers shine dully.
Brown bench presses against my legs as
          I watch the glimmering pieces 
               that keep my eyes from
                    looking in the clothed-bodied cavern:
the umber burnt walls  plank tabletops  hunched studying
     students but no sign of 
          his ragged leather jacket
               or mickey mouse watch.
The clear green dice land and
     I watch the worn, wrinkled, shriveled
          hands of a wizened player clasp a checker
               and countercross a tan triangle.
Next, my trembling fingers snatch
     the bamboo cup
          rattle the dice
               and toss them!
In this dungeon
     students drink rich mocha
          (not his cocoa)
               as the rattle
                    rattle tattle-tale of green dice
                         sounds . . .



--jennifer crystal chien