Future Or Not Poem by Marilyn Shepperson

Within this tent, there's just you and me
And the things upon the table
A pearl handled knife, a box
A crystal ball and a pack of cards
A well trained black cat sits at your feet
As you shuffle the tarot deck
Which you then lay back face down
Upon the blue cloth on the table
Your be-ringed thin fingers slide
Enticingly over that clear glass bauble
You look at me, yet you don't say a word
You wait for me to speak first
But gypsy lady, I do not know
If I really wish to know my future.