In Memoriam

Deborah Cummins
1949–2023

Nothing Lasts

Not this morning’s errant wind gust,

its only intention to have merely been.

The perfectly ripe nectarine, its juices

running down my chin. Not me,

This body built for an ending.

This container of my many selves.

Spaces where things can begin

to go wrong. The indiscernible

click. The tiny catch in the gears.

Some switch failing to flip.

Our bodies, with their elegiac

backbeats, built for an ending.

Meanwhile, just beyond my window,

clouds impeccable, tides unstoppable.

Meanwhile, joy is dispatched

from who knows where,

When sunlight pours down

and I can almost smell the blue.

—
Deborah Cummins
March 2023

For more information on Deborah’s work, please contact:

Robert Cummins at rpc@cumminslawfirm.com

Molly Cummins at mollycummins06@gmail.com