December 15

unreasonable joy
arrives despite
how puzzled I am
it chose my doorstep.
I try to explain why this can’t be the right time—
We’ve got death, destruction, dementia
going on now—all the bad D’s.
Are you sure you’ve got the right address? I ask,
blocking joy’s entry with my whole body.
Yep, says joy. I’m here.
What else can I do except
open the door wide and say
How long can you stay?
Joy, of course, doesn’t answer
but just rushes in