This morning
the light was gray
and I tried to go back to sleep
for a while.

This morning
I made breakfast of fried eggs with chili sauce,
but it tasted gummy and white.

This morning
someone wrote to me
asking if I was okay.

This morning
I got texts that just read
“What”.

This morning
I saw messages typed
by people I love
saying “this is not the country
I know. This is not
what I believe.”

This morning
I cried in bed
and wished it was yesterday.

This morning
I watched TV hosts who make me laugh
look as if they were about to cry too.

This morning
I was afraid for myself
and people close to me.

This morning
I wished I could hug my mom.

This morning
I tried to remember
how kind people can be.
How, in this world,
there are still kittens wearing sweaters
somewhere
and Tom Hanks in a Pumpkin suit.
There is still good gelato
a few blocks away.
And there are millions of people
who didn’t want this to happen.

This morning
I told someone I loved them.
I drank coffee and thought about the day,
how the best way forward
is to write
a poem.
Which is like saying
I’m here. Where are you?
Which is like saying
Here’s my hand. I’m scared too.
Which is like saying
We will get through this together.
I hear you, I hear you.

This morning
I remembered there will be
an afternoon and an evening.

Then,
another day.