A Twenty Minutes poem.
It Won’t Be Enough
The heavy sky full of rain clouds
pressing down on the street.
The air thick and cold a weight in the lungs
of everyone who walks along the sidewalk
some of them coughing.
The gloved hands swinging out of the dimness
holding bags or purses or keys to the houses
that are standing along the street
dead flowers and dried grass in their front yards
black windows cold and hard
Someone turns on the porch light
in the last house
at the end of the street.