It starts as a rustling
in a far away place,
a gathering of wind,
dark clouds shrinking
the horizon.
We live our normal lives,
harboring minute danger
in the smallest kindness.
Soon we are in the midst
of the storm together,
a surreal eroding of
a fabric woven of
culture and hierarchy.
Everything is flattened,
changed by an enemy unseen.
Rising with the sun is
resilient connection,
physical distance merely
an inconvenience to caring.
We shelter with a sense of place,
waiting like Spring.
Categories: Poetry