Roiling Stars
  Beverly Cummings

I take off my disguise
having given up trying to seduce

Winter was a time to push myself—
to not ask questions

The change of seasons a promotion from loneliness—
even in death I wanted my father to be my hero

The blues bring me so much solace
each song an enthrallment

Toyed with the idea of becoming a recluse
but find comfort in amity

His brother-in-law said to lose a wife
is one thing but to lose a son!

He took the gun he had kept cocked in the
night table drawer and shot it off in a field

With certain things: books and people
there is still the pain familiar to ECT

I haven’t felt this way in years—
there are these huge gaps: roiling stars

The lawns and trees barren—
moss clambering up the bark

Stormy Weather— Ella Fitzgerald
when faith refuses to linger

The massive accident on the highway
spills out millions of bees and their paper houses

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