Stacked

Sometimes
the cards just don't
fall
like you want.
  Your left hand shakes
as you cut
the deck.
One falls. It is
the the Empress,
her face
judging, rests on
your shoe.

Re-stack.
Shuffle.
Left-hand
cuts the deck:
three piles.
  The top card sticks
to your thumb,
three swords
draw it's blood.
Something wicked
this way comes.

Re-stack.
Shuffle.
Left-hand
cuts the deck.
Nothing falls.
Nothing flies.
Past: the Fool.
Present: Eight
   of wands.
Nothing falls,
nothing flies.
One left.
Future slides,
slips
to the floor.
The card beneath
grins, beckons,
dances:
the Hanged
Man.


Sometimes
the cards just don't
fall
like you want.