you are an unopened
sleeve of salt crackers

on a shelf in a bunker
awaiting the storm
you are the blankets
folded for warmth
you are the siren
the tempo that sounds
like a clapper the bell
that rights all our wrongs
you are the frequency
on high alert
the volume down low

so no one gets hurt

you are the day
and the day after that
a parting, a wake
a coming together
you are the foxcatcher
in dead of night
we share a hole
where no one is right
no one is trapped
no one is guilty
you are the family
that has escaped me
you are the day and
the day after that
you are unopened
you are the crack

For Paul, on his birthday