An Uneasy Armistice

It could be very hard now,
and too hot to publicly kneel
at doors where people turn off
a/c’s, proclaiming at each other,
but not yelling,
not to be angry at all, if only
they could have a break
for one minute,
the rambling and biting
the billing and the
out of her mind
seething sun
all –
could be manageable,
they believe. Only,
in a minute,
one song could
appear, stir
a necessary storm,
even rain, doors will
open people will follow
this pain, if not eased, will
mingle with others, wet
and distracted, who knows,
what could be found and
lost. Only,
the sharp pounding, indexed
on his temples, flanked by
tremors of dread, forced an uneasy
armistice, a hasty withdrawal
to a shelter at a bus station. He
will be back.