A walk through the neighborhood on a virus filled spring evening.
The COVID-19 Chapter, “At Home”: DAY 20 Something
I took an evening walk in the neighborhood. Here’s a little snapshot of my experience.
The People are in their houses
In stolen moments, I wander out
The moon is full and pink – she draws me into quiet
The trees heavy with fragrance, unaware
With shivers and tears, I walk alone
The people are in their houses
The dusk becoming darker
The houses, glowing from within
Memories flood my senses
My boys at home, wondering where I am
The people are in their houses
Eerie silent boulevards
No sound from cars, or life
The deafening moon, slides through the clouds
A virus, dancing on the breeze
The people are in their houses
Fellow wanderer! good evening
We speak of work and paint
You go that way, I’ll go this way
You shouldn’t be outside
The people are in their houses
My neighbors heed the warning
What about me? out here
Specters with crowns, boys with guns
I forgot to be afraid
The people are in their houses
Strange beauty in the moonlight
I risk my life to dare the dark, breathe the air
I should turn towards home
Danger, danger amidst birthdays and balloons
And the people are in their houses
