When I see skallywags - I feel at home
Same when I hear roosters.
As I sift through financial statements
I'm scared of nuclear war
Popping up on my phone
First thing in the morning.
All of my adult life.
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How does this add up?
That I keep turning over leaves
To form new relationships and hope
Only to break them down again
Like so much compost
For a pile
That's already out of control
And looming over my life.
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I listen for clues in the conversations
Of old men sitting around the breakfast table
At McDonalds.
They are talking about Boeing airplanes
That can fit, "maybe four hundred twenty people or more."
Dryly stated, with a singe of contempt
I recognize I've begun to use
When things are too big
Or too new.
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Drinking coffee in the back yard
With the sunshine on my face
It dawns on me
That my neighbor
Whom I only know as "coughing lady"
Is nowhere to be heard
And hasn't been for days.
I hope she's okay.
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