Michael H. Brownstein writes: You're on the roof of your old house, the roof in serious disrepair, but you walk on it as if you're on a boardwalk – a squirrel falls through where you just stood – what is left to do but go to all fours, tread carefully until you’re on safe ground, call the roofers (you can’t fix this), and write a poem.

You're walking across a great field, firecrackers exploding. You swat away at dozens of mosquitoes. Near where you teach, the security guard tackles you and points out a sniper who has been shooting at you as you crossed. There is nothing else to do but conduct a poetry workshop in your algebra class.

You go camping, and a rattlesnake crawls into your sleeping bag. Prayer and poetry – they really do go together.

On and on. Take a break. Write a poem.