We wait quietly
in the night
for the chance of escape.
It is coming,
we know,
but we’re not sure of its schedule
or if our exit
will be in time.

A storm’s coming
and it could be dangerous.
It could be deadly
– we’re not sure about that either.
We know it’s getting colder, though,
which keeps us awake.
That’s good.
Who knows what damage could occur
if we slept through
our ride out of this mess?
We sure don’t.

We don’t know enough
about what’s going on,
ramping anxiety right the fuck up.
It’s all going to be all right,
isn’t it?
We have no answer for that
as we sit quietly
waiting for a chance
to flee into darkness.