To dwell

I hear the sirens and should be more
alarmed

they do not cease
and I meditate
or try to find the silence
in the thicket

of noise, nerves, signals,
cymbals
and flashing red lights.

Meanwhile,
the wind was howling outside
loose things slammed into each other
and the panes quivered
in their sills.

I thought of somewhere
life being whisked away
and let a fear
inside.

I stared at the door
but did not leave
knowing this
would be the death of me.


Painting by Paul Cornoyer, 'The lights in the window' c. 1910 in Public Domain.