Dad’s Crown dominoes, a double six set, as black as midnight,
Gleamed on the kitchen table;
They came with game rules in the base of a cardboard box.
My dad, Dick, would shuffle those bones along the sleek table
And I would listen to the rhythm of the clicking bones.
Sometimes they were chattering to me.
Sometimes they seemed in slow motion
Like old farts doing their death dance,
Shuffling off their mortal coils.