In every lane, thoughts trouble the water.
Kelly thinks about her flower shop:
can she can get enough red roses
after the hurricane? Helen wonders
was she right not to have the breast
removed? Yes. No. Yes. No. Clare worries
about her mother, who can’t remember
what she had for breakfast and won’t
use a walker and won’t give up the house
though the roof leaks and the walls are full of bees.
I try not to think, just counting
nine plus nine plus nine plus nine
plus four plus four makes a mile.
But in the locker room I hear two women
talking about peace and hope
and I start to cry again.