Daughter number two

And I said to her:
Stop it. Stop it. And then I yelled a  
little more than I should have. And 
she said, “Do you still love me?”

Stop it. Stop it. And then I yelled a
little less, but just enough. And
she said, “Do you still love me?”
If guilt were a heart attack, it would be a

little less, but just enough. And
my ears dimmed, my eyes muted; 
if guilt were a heart attack, it would be a:
“Yes, I still love you.”

My ears dimmed, my eyes muted;
little more than I should have. 
“Yes, I still love you.”
I said to her:

Mrs. McEntire...

A curtain drawn
shows her covered.
Wrapped, shawl and all;
paneled wood

shows her covered.
Still, and cold, breath begging;
paneled wood
held over and around.

Still, and cold, breath begging
for a final show, an encore.
Held over and around,
heavier than the air

for a final show, an encore
wrapped, shawl and all;
heavier than the air—
a curtain drawn…