about a search of my own

I look for places to live, and the places leave me disoriented. Empty places. People leaving spaces.

The setting sun's light slips over the trees across the river, and I wonder, Who will leave me a home?

about decades between crises

Seeing smouldering ashes would have helped us make sense of the dread. Instead, the destruction often remains theoretical. And Tammy really felt the fear with this one, with the encroaching pandemic. Why the difference? She had a lot more to lose now than she did in college when the attack of September 11th happened. Tammy is one of us mercantilists now.