Demonstrative

We got an email that there were protestors
at the corner, and that explains the traffic

weirdness we can see out the window facing
the other way. Otherwise, we would be hidden

up in our loft, like owls uncaring it’s the time
for shearing, or pigeons, just waiting for a tiny

message to be tied to one twiggy orange foot.
Who could know that somewhere across the country

someone died and rioters are rioting? It’s silent here
inside these walls. We watch tennis

instead of news. The email comes. We read.
Say “What are they protesting anyway?”
And shrug and root for the underdog in the major.