My brother and I play chess.
He tucks four year old legs under him,
kneeling for a view of the board.
I tell him he is looking out
over a huge battlefield.
On the battlefield, a checkered board,
the knights are known by their horses,
the bishops by their hats,
the king by his bold crown,
the queen by her scalloped one,
the castle by its tower,
the pawns by their bare heads.
My brother's bare head bends forward,
keeping right up with me.
His rook's in place to checkmate my king.
I'm waiting for him to notice. . .