In between the hot humid days that have hung in the air
this month, we have seen quite a bit of rain.
The storms that have flooded other parts of the country,
such as Texas and Missouri, have wended
their way into Indiana. As I look out my window
to the south, the sky is bright blue above
a curtain of gray clouds; southern Indiana is
experiencing storms, accompanied by the real threat
I like to get up early in the morning,
sometimes leaving early to walk around downtown
to take pictures, Here, about a month ago, the sun
bounced brightly off the glass of an office building, and
cast its aura through the pale, pink blooms
on the trees outside the Federal Court Building.
These walks often make me think that we have
quite another storm brewing in our midst at street level.
Here, the beauty of the morning is sucked
away by the reality of homeless men sleeping
on the sidewalks. I am not afraid at these times.
Instead, I feel embarrassed, as though I've walked
into someone's home, unwittingly crossing
an invisible wall, one that exists on
the sidewalk just outside a hotel.
The number of these folk is increasing;
people caught in a void of no job, no home,
little food. Snared by some
vortex of bad luck and/or poor choices,
they are the stormfront, warning us of future
upheavals. Every day, I tell myself,
There but for fortune go I,
and one of these days, it could just as
easily be me or any number of my friends.
The chasm is growing.