"Chess" by Eliana Franklin

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This poem is
not about a game.

I never played games
with you
and you never played games
with me.

Instead, I’d come to your house
every week
and we’d sit on
your screen porch
with the chessboard in front of us.

We’d laugh and talk
and half the time
forget whose turn it was.

Warm air drifting
through the gray mesh walls,
the scent of flowers blooming.

The cat would climb
on the table
and scatter pieces
with a clatter and
a patter of soft, playful paws.
At first we’d groan,
but always smile in the end
and simply

start again.

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Eliana Franklin is an emerging poet from Charlotte, North Carolina. She studies creative writing and environmental studies at the University of North Carolina at Asheville. She has previously been published in Headwaters Creative Arts Journal, Sanctuary Journal, and Lucky Jefferson‘s 365 Collection. She enjoys writing about nature and daily life.