I suppose resilience
is me standing here reading
poetry,
looking around
for lightning
and then buying
time
which I know
to be scarce.
Someone else
in my place
would have been destroyed
by now,
if it meant a returning
back to zero
when all hope did once bud
like flowers
in late spring
just a month ago.
The line
for the interview
hasn’t moved
from this
exit door.
I have to believe
all these fools
in front
of me
must not know
I was
called.
