Who's There?

This was written on the bus back from NYC.  (Yes, Paul Simon, while counting the cars on the NJ Turnpike.)  It sounds a little prosaic at this point, and I'm not sure I capture enough of the context for it to be clear.  (To my family members- this game may be something Diane and I played once as opposed to something that was habitual for the whole family.  It's OK if you don't remember it; that is part of what the poem is about.)

                                                                

                                           

                                             Who’s There?

                       

On long family trips, we sometimes played

a game in which one person would tap out

the initial knocks to “Shave and a haircut”

and we would see how long we could wait

before someone would rap out “Two bits.”

This game was long on suspense but short on

action as we would wait miles, days, even

months before someone would finally succumb.

“Remember this!?” that someone would exclaim

in a proclamation of triumph in

defeat as losing the game was deemed worth

the delight of reminding us of what

we had almost forgotten. I am still

waiting for those final raps, reminding

me of who knows what.