Saul Bennett
Cards
Bridge, at sea,
With a certain Father Healy
Of Jersey City
In the freighter's salon,
At 21 if not a citizen
Of Rome, an anointed visitor,
Viewing through his covert
Confessor's curtain
My partner/opponent's steely
Brush-cut dome,
A deck above his silver wire specs,
Two above that imperturbable collar,
En route home to join the army.
But not yet.
Not before morning
And afternoon tea service
Before our lashing, passengers,
The dozen of us,
By stewards with thick ropes
To the captain's long broad dining table
Anchored by a dour Finn
Preceding his invitation
To choose after dinner as we wished
From the salon's choice liqueurs,
Seems, still, a lifetime's Paradise,
As in mind's heart since
All mortal pleasures occur here.