On Tuesday Mornings, Sirens, and a Baby's Birth/Day 20

Outside sirens sound this Tuesday
morning in.  I wonder if somewhere
a house is burning, a car has
flipped over, a woman is
found dead in her bathroom
by her friend who has come
to visit.  We wonder what
control of our lives would
look like.  What if every
siren we heard meant a
hot air balloon had been
launched into the sky, or
that the night stars had issued
their glory for the evening?  What
if we could say what the
siren's call portends?  Then
the bad would always be
taken out and the good would
come and those sirens might only
forewarn that a baby has
been born in the backseat of a car.