Stale, mate


Stale, mate


I’m stuck, trapped, boxed in.

Whichever way I move,

It brings me back to here,

Walled in and cornered.

I’m sick of the knife-edge tango

This dance with balance

and the relentless Dark Queen

Chasing me across the board.

I tap-dance between squares,

Trying to escape with clever moves

returning always to this state.

Breathing space, for a short while

Means I can fool myself I am free

Before the shadow of the Queen

Falls long across the field

And in a few moves, I’m locked up

Pinned down and frantic.

I concede: you win.

No rematch, please.



8 thoughts on “Stale, mate

  1. Wow! Which sounds inane, but you have captured it. The Dark Queen…chess. That’s an image I will carry with me.

    • I’ve been feeling like I am running very fast just to stand still right now. shades of Alice there somewhere. I look a little like a superannuated Alice anyway!

  2. Just trying to encourage.
    I can’t shake the old dark queen either but I haven’t been through the awful ordeal of health problems like you have.
    I would think they magnify her presence in a very clever and deceptive way.

    Your post made me think of a book my wife read
    “I’m dancing as fast as I can” ..

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