Her mother calls her Jacqueline, Her husband, Jackie
and she terms herself resolved
to stand upright, to secure her marriage
with the same finesse
she applies to fastening her hat. No veil for cover.
Pale fingers split another hair pin
creating an angular pause
like that of time captured
between hands on the mantle clock.
Ten mintues after the hour
and ten years of marriage,
she scans that chapter
through scenes: kids playing, white house
and rose garden, other women calling
his private line ---
a candlelit mass for the stillborn.
Her thumb grows tense
as she aims to slide this second pin
through its loop, hoping to kill
any chance of wind disrupting
her composure.
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