Anno Dominoes or Spinner

I am not Cuban,

or even from a nearby island

but when I hear the sound

of bones rattling

on concrete tables

I remember sunny

Sunday afternoons

and the old man

spinning his domino

waiting to play

always muttering

about two enemies

and a fool for a partner,

the fool was me

but I laughed

because we usually won,

in spite of my bone head.

The enemies were

his son and son-in-law,

they partnered me

with the master

to make it a game.

We played double twelves

on black wooden pieces

best used for making a line

and pushing one over.

All my partners, gringoes,

and Puerto Ricans, are dead,

the years fallen like dominoes

only I remain, Anno Dominios.