Unplayed Monopoly

Mom scoops up the brown package

before the first die rolls,

rushing from our neatly set up game

to catch the post office before it closes

strewing horse, hat, shoe, pot of gold,

from their ready positions on GO,

and sending obscurely colored bills

flying around the room,

some landing on the
stack
of Clue, Scrabble, and Life,

which gets knocked over

by her legs eager to head out the door.

A rushing wind from the open door

picks up Community Chest cards,

lightly placing them in my purse.

Tiny green houses and red hotels

look as though a hurricane has happened

to their petite neighborhood.

Half the instructions are in the puppy's mouth

as she goes running,

flipping over the box,

sending CHANCE's flying.