unravelling the code

the genie’s lamp

she muttered to herself
as though she had found
what she expected

what is it

she glanced at me

that you wish for?

turning back to her work

a bowl

it is filled with fruit

more bounty?


she grasped my hand

at a pattern in the markings
at the bottom of the square
that only she
could identify


she said

a horse

higher up in the square


is the rider

is it a fall?
a separation?

what of the gun?

she threw my hand down
while she mumbled
half under her breath

then turned
looked up at me directly


it is you
I see your face

the die is cast

touch your finger
on the shadow

the code
will take you
to where you need
to be

she held a thin
deeply lined palm
face up
towards me

waiting for it to be blessed
in silver

© Frank Prem, 2017

March 2017 Poem #31: frog call (ba bonk)

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