Another way to stay calm is to focus on the miracle of your shelter.
Of your amenities.
Your refrigeration.
Septic.
To turn away from things like the length of the day, the stamina required to endure its sheer duration.
How there’s no one you want to go see.
Nowhere to walk.
How seeing no one, walking nowhere, seems somehow like Not Partaking.
Not Engaging.
To instead Settle In.
Windowside.
Porch-posted.
On your roof.
The wildest luxury: private outdoor space.
And if no private: public will do.
Public made private by your sphere perimeter.
By the focus field of the thing you doin.
The breath boundary of your book.
Out here nah’m sayin dwelling.
You gon’ be alright.
—
Sean Thor Conroe lives in Harlem.
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