After slaughtering the moon and stars
The storm stills.
The night piles up like black angora
Summer’s crickets come to trill
And I rest into the blackness
And write this poem
To still my body from that storm
Nowhere to be found now
But in me.
Roberta “Bobby” Santlofer (1943-2020) was a mother of sons, an avid reader, and a poet. A posthumous collection of her poetry is forthcoming.