Triple Word.

Letters scatter

Across the board of my mind;

Some cling to meaning

Others slip in silence

Hoping to form a word

That counts,

That earns a point

Against the clock of thoughts

And the quiet hum of longing.

I place vowels

Like soft steps

Across memory tiles,

Consonants grind

Against the edges of regret,

Hoping for a high score

In the game of living,

Where no one checks your rack

For letters left unused.

A word forms

From dust and shadow,

A promise or a prayer

That even in a jumble

Something can spell,

Joy.