Sunday, May 17, 2020

nothing we can do

another too short night bleeds into another
too hectic morning that transitions to a too dark,
too dreary, too windy, too rainy northwest commute

check email, brew tea, get organized, remember: 
treat people how i hope to be treated,
all that golden rule stuff
interact with staff, kids arrive, and arrive,
and arrive, half asleep, bleary eyed, glued to phones,
laughing and scheming with friends, 
shoves and grabs, some alone, so alone, 
squeals, insults and accusations, chatter perks
to a disorientating racket, remember:
they are somebody's babies 
bell rings, ever-morphing bodies
grudgingly crowd through halls and into chairs

i think again about the unnamed weight hovering,
bearing down and the knowing, that it can happen there
reminding me daily, it can happen here
and i hope they don't think about it
as often as i do and i hope they don't realize
there is nothing we can do to predict or stop it

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