Nero, they say, played his fiddle as the whole of Rome
Was burned. My wife makes plans to spend a week
In Texas with her sister and her niece as we approach
The date when we may have to leave our home. Sometimes,
Horrors grow so great that we can't bear to deal with them.
They say that that's how Nero felt, and, after two millenia,
It seems my wife does, too.

Meanwhile, I wake up at night. I'm panic-stricken. What
Will happen? I don't get much comfort from the thought
That what I'm going through is not what an old Roman felt.
It's what who knows how many people suffer every day.