In that there is no one to apologize to
in particular no one but the many in general.
In that now & then you note a configuration
of sirens a block away you never heard before.
In that the sadness of a particular country
tune and lyric might depend on one of your own.
In that your fears are fractions of a world
you took on the whole to be consequential.
It follows that it’s not birdsong but a
squirrel’s grief that bewrays the morning.