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page 30

Adelaide B. Shaw, USA

Like Father, Like Daughter

Sleep is almost with me, but not quite. It teases, comes closer, then retreats, laughing in the darkness, daring me to try again, to urge, cajole, plead. I tempt it with my supply of inducements, some old, some new. Lately it's been Solitaire, the game my father played every sleepless night. I see him in his kitchen as I sit in mine, sipping hot milk, the cards placed on the table in seven neat rows.

a promise made–
no cheating at Solitaire
to honor his name


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