His good luck reminded me of Siamese twins
Impossible to separate
The slot machines never let him down
Would that I could obtain that bounce in his walk
That lucky people seem to have
They never take a left turn that leads the wrong way
I knock on wood, still nothing
I keep a record of their habits
One wears a lucky cent on a chain around his neck
His first piece of luck won on a toss, heads, or tails
Another tells me, only play when it feels right
It’s a steep learning curve
On my way home that night 
I find a black cat brooch
Picking it up, I pin it to my t-shirt
Knowing I would be lucky from now on
Each turn of the cards, each spin of the wheel
Will play for me…

© Anita Dawes 2021