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It’s only Mrs. Warren.
It’s seven a.m.
and she’s out of her house
like it’s on fire,
running down the street
waving her hands in the air.

It’s Mrs. Nichols’ turn
to calm her this time.
Not that we keep an active roster.
It just seems to happen
that everybody takes their turn.

Mrs. Warren’s face is pale.
She’s in her nightgown shivering.
Mrs. Nichols wraps an arm around her,
says out loud so half
the neighborhood can hear,
“Whatever is the matter?”

It’s okay of course.
Nothing has happened.
It’s just something Mrs. Warren does
as if on the command of sunrise.
And we all play our part.

Besides, it’s good practice
for when someone is in real trouble.
That someone could even be me.
Or Mrs. Nichols.
There are times that we need others
to step in, apply their strengths
to our sudden weaknesses.

Mrs. Warren’s function
is to make us aware
of all who are not Mrs. Warren.

They are us.
She is not.