All on Red

You used to say I should put it on red,

I often imagined placing my chips there

on the green baize, disregarding care,

nothing mattered in any shape or form

until I met you and cashed in what remained.

Now we are apart, a pandemic has hit,

smashed our dreams into smithereens,

left us three thousand miles away, different

worlds entirely. I Skype you, drink your image,

light catching turquoise eyes which thrill me still.

I long to get back, but a never-ending track 

seems to have unrolled in front of me, payback,

perhaps, for my past carelessness at the races,

at the card table, with dice, playing with life,

I’d never play with us, though perhaps it’s too late.