royal flush

I was ten years old
seated at the kitchen table
with my mother, father
and grandmother for another
Saturday poker night

two penny ante
and I played with the
ferocity of a degenerate
gambler playing his last
hand in the no limit
World Series of Poker

staring blankly at the
eights and fives full house
nestled in my hands
I was surprised when gramma
raised me three cents
ordinarily, a hand this good
would see everyone else
at the table fold
within seconds

I met her three cents
and bumped a nickel
mom and dad folded and
gramma and I escalated our
loose change cold war
until I blinked
and called her hand

she laid out the cards
grinning so wide her dentures
popped out and landed in her
sifter of peppermint schnapps

a natural royal flush
in the suit of hearts

my jaw dropped
my fingers retracting from the pot
as she greedily swiped the
mound of pennies toward
her bony chest

I stared at the cards
knowing I’d never see
this combination again

1 in 650,000 odds
she won 37 cents