Mercy lived in the swamp
was easy to be around because she belong to no one

her husband’s lovers were jealous that they still
came
came

to see her
they would navigate the complicated back roads
to sit on the porch,  eat some gumbo, take tea
just breath, just be

long, long they sit
and very often they laugh, watch the stellar jays hide their nuts
they listen to her as she opens the keybox, they travel again with her

they want to stay
they want to stay

not for her sex, her breasts her sometimes
bourbon mouth, her arched back

but for the way she cuts her eyes at them
knowing, they, like herself -fail so often
saying , “go easy star”
and loves them just the same
letting them go