This poem was originally published in the fine online site Vita Brevis. Featured photo by Mark Tulin.
~Flying Kings by Mark Tulin~ I watch as two homeless men play checkers with ease and love in a laid-back coffee shop. They drink from their own enamel cups, stirring fresh cream and sugar into their coffee. One man triple jumps. The other gets kinged as the red and black checkers by the hands of gnarled fingers zig and zag, hop and skip. They play every Wednesday between six and eight-thirty. They unfold an old checkerboard that they bought from Goodwill and ask the barista to fill their cups with coffee. One man always triple jumps. The other always gets kinged. They play for hours, each waiting his turn, forgetting about their troubles, not just a game, but a means to an end.