THE OPENING GAME
On the cribbage board your hands,
Your big and bony masculine hands,
Move your pegs, your red pegs,
And my unwomanly sturdy hands
Want my pegs to follow
But the cards do not cooperate.
Instead I tell you how my sled
Slid into the sunken garden.
You tell me your father died young
But yours was a kindly stepfather.
And now my blue pegs come up
To yours and we move in tandem.
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