Betty Cave

Cleansing begins with the
          eyes closed
vanquish
          and thoughts of 
          her.
A cave
          an underground stream
          pure and cold
                    making slick
                    the heft
                    of vague & ageless rocks.
Who was this woman
          Betty Cave:
          (A)  minor poet
          (B)  darts champion
          (C)  president’s wife, or
          (D)  the first American shaman 

The sound of wind chimes
          is air’s soliloquy
Pine needles fall
          and bring to ground green fragrance
In her clinics by the brook
          no one sleeps alone.
Not she
          not Elizabeth Taylor
Not Kurt Cobain
          nor any of the other
          27 suicides.
In the morning it is
          pecan waffles
               with falls of syrup
               (world’s highest)
Coffee is OK
In her words, “Permissible.”

With the gleaming ink of morning
she signs the executive order
of waking, satisfied for us all.