SUNDAY WALK DURING THE QUARANTINE

another day,

another walk,

this time more than a

mile, up through

eastern market

where white people

and me pretended

it was just another

day, and these masks,

bandana for me,

was just the season’s latest

surgery or handbag or filter.

are you open sir? then, why

are you open sir? well, don’t

answer that because i’d like

to order but first i need to

kill what might have made a

home on my hands.

and then up pennsylvania

past the post office,

left at the nation’s library,

down third through the

joggers and dog walkers

and tricyclists and

grandparents because

only grandparents live

around these parts.

stepped into the street like

wearing my grandmother’s

feet and this is about our

other virus, the one that

is our heartbeat, and palpitation.

then waited at the corner

at constitution.

a masked man held the

hand of a woman.

he nodded. i nodded back,

smiled behind my bandit

cloth. his cheeks lifted

his mask slightly above

his chin.

jason he called out.

paul, i replied,

affirmed that i could recognize

a friend just by looking in his eyes,

and happy he could recognize me

even with a matcha latte in hand.