Wheel

Rain at last. Day sinking like a ship

into the boom and patter.

Daisies, daylilies, spattered

and dripping, cars plowing a scrim

of water. I’m grateful the sky’s

coming around, a predictable hymn

of cycles. Like the moon and stars

moored to the end

of our dock, circling my eyes. In Vegas,

the old women in gold sandals

twirl the bars of cherries,

grapes, bananas. What later do they

say was predictable—

loss or gain? What prescience

claim? The radiation arm moves

back and forth over me. Past that,

stars on the ceiling,

what will come out when rain ends,

someone’s idea of peace. I’m lying

low, it’s raining out. Periods

are tattooed on my stomach, I’ve been

mapped for return and return

with such patient concern.