Anne Eliot
Having never cared
for Bath, she is often
the last to leave a room,
closing family bibles harshly
in the light of births and
mirages. She finds herself
unable to hear her mother's
voice longer than the briefest
of brocades; and she never
cared for Bath, or Seamen
pouring hasty notes onto
thick parchment,
or discord, often a wakeful
lull, blinking back pathos
while admirers rip fingertips
for want of her.