Poetry About Crisis

The radio repeats the same unfinished warning. Phones light up across the kitchen table. Neighbors carry water door to door. No one knows how long the road will hold. Crisis strips tomorrow to the next clear action. We become each others shelter by degrees.

Evening changes the weight of the scene. Neighbors carry water door to door. A smaller detail comes forward. Crisis strips tomorrow to the next clear action. Meaning gathers without raising its voice. We become each others shelter by degrees.

The radio repeats the same unfinished warning. Hours pass, but the image does not leave. Neighbors carry water door to door. It returns us to urgency, uncertainty, fear, response, solidarity, and the moment ordinary rules give way. Crisis strips tomorrow to the next clear action. The day continues with a more attentive heart.