The high wood fence out back, already weak

Hit hard by errant late-night motorist

Has now been broken, fissured, fully breached

Is in grave danger, now, of imminent collapse

That redhead carpenter who's worked here on and off

A masters in philosophy, a musician, handy too

Was always keen to come — could phone him now, today

But . . . he's just welcomed a new life

Pandemic baby! for him and his sweet wife

(Hope all went well in this dark time, have not heard

seems wrong, presumption to intrude?

Scared also, in this dark time, to ask, even to call)

No doubt he's wisely taking extra care in this dark time

Protecting all his lovely loves from viral harm

To ask him now to fix things here, heroically

in this dark time

To ask someone, someone I know, to die for it

To risk his baby, harm his bride?

Though . . . there is fear in being unsecured

in this dark time

Out back, here in our 'edgy' eastside neighbourhood

Best, perhaps, to skip reports of nearby home invasions

Victim females — ideal targets — living here, alone

Best, perhaps, to just keep quiet

just not ask for help

Round of questions spins apace —

What am I asking?

What am I worth?

What 'needs' are more than wants?

Do I 'need' to live

or want to?

Why would I want to?

What would I — could I —want?

What, now, for me, today

in this strange half-life half-death world

does living even mean?

And what about when roles reverse?

Because of course they will

Of course, in fact, they do

Today I try to help a neighbour with his damaged car

Sideswiped by dark brown truck from UPS that swiftly sped away —

Seems somehow extra selfish, extra cruel in this dark time

No heroism here, it seems, no spunky slogans to be sung

So out I go to take a look, to see how bad it is

A dent, a scrape, a streetside outside mirror smashed

By chance I also spot, inside the neighbour's car

Attached to rear view mirror there, a sad surprise

Disabled permit, white and blue, that dangles down

Did not know he had one of those, not 'til today

Sad, poor old fellow, used to be so solid-strong

Sad, to bang at his front door, bring more bad news today

More bad news in this dark time, that is — but must be done

Now quite deaf, he shout-speaks, stands so very close

Tries hard to understand mask-muffled me

my simple horrid tale of what went down —

That sudden noisy sideswipe blow, the UPS van driving on —

Then we walk toward his damaged car

Thin shards of broken glass crack, sparkle

crunch on grey-paved ground

He breathes (of course), unmasked

Sighs, swears a bit

Leans very close to me

Heroically I breathe as well

Will I die for him?

For notions of a neighbourhood?

Die for his damaged car?

For something else?

Would I die for you?