for Scotty K.
He hit big in Atlantic City
then headed off to LA.
Winnings helped gain his dreams
to be an actor.
Drives he’d take to Vegas from LA filled with excitement.
Luck lingering in the folds and flip overs of cards.
This trip along with his dad,
sitting together
at the blackjack table.
A funny man full of jokes
who pretended to have heart attacks when checks came at restaurants. This time it wasn’t.
Among aces and jacks
this would be the last place
they’d sit together.
A son’s hand on a father’s shoulder
for good luck turned into a goodbye.

New Year’s Eve, just before Y2K. Everyone scared the world
was ending, theirs had.
A role he wasn’t prepared to play. Driving back to LA hard and long
when you lose in Vegas.
This trip they lost each other.

Twenty four years later
on a visit to a casino,
seeing a Boyband
in the concert arena.
I pass by blackjack tables
looking down,
not at the backs of gamblers
with chips and dreamy eyes
on big wins.
I remember his hurting.
I’m not in Atlantic City or Vegas,
I don’t have to be.
Empathetic sorrow follows me knowing for Scotty,
blackjack is never the same.

Margarette Wahl is a poet from Massapequa, NY. She has four chapbooks with Local Gems Press and one self published poetry memoir. Her poem is inspired by her friend Scotty Kyle on the loss of his dad Bernard.