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Bridge

I wish my eyes were unawake
on Wednesdays when my partner drives
too fast, too close and overtakes
the cars ahead on either side.
She risks our lives so we can make
it to the table just in time.

When play begins we have to wait
an age for her to lead or bid.
She stares at space, prevaricates
and as the opposition click
their tongues and wish the spell might break,
she squeezes out an overtrick.

About This Poem

Editing Stage: Not actively editing

About the Author

Country/Region: England

Favorite Poets: John Cooper Clarke , Fleur Adcock , Carol Anne Duffy , Derek Mahon

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Comments

Lavender

Lavender

3 weeks 4 days ago

Bridge

Hello, Ray,

Such a great poem!  The comparative risk in both stanzas, the woman's character and personality,  the sense of the narrator's anxiety, tight rhyme and rhythm, and that solid final line - I can almost here the "snap" sound as the cards are revealed and laid down. Really like the wild rush of the first stanza, and the laborious feeling in the second.  Love the wordplay:  "over"takes, trick, and "squeezes out" says it all. 

Thank you!

L

Geezer

Geezer

3 weeks 3 days ago

Not a...

bridge-player, but I do play Whist and Spades, where the same term is used. Been a while since my wife and I have played, but it may be something that we take up again. I too, loved the rancor with which the trip to "bridge night" was told. Like WTF? she drives like a maniac to get us here, and then plays the game like a general, cool, calm and collected. Yup, I can see that. ~ Geez.