Lucy Mercer Rutherford to Franklin Delano Roosevelt
Eleanor’s delicate stomach
on the sea, my own love
of turbulence, made a haven
for us those months
until she found my letters,
saw the ribboned packet
and could not resist.
I see her frozen as she understood.
She must have told you
with that face always set on a plan,
but you did not have to tell me.
I knew when you sold our Moon.
Then it was not the wake behind us
marking our voyage,
but the wake of her anger
stealing the vessel of our love.