Quarantine Day 6: A Walk With Mom
We can’t help but smell the blossoms
As we walk 6’ apart
Sometimes one of us on the sidewalk
And one in the street
And sometimes both in the street
Ebbing sometimes too close
And then correcting
Sometimes through the dewy grass
Littered with clover and pinkwhite daisies
It’s aggressively spring
And aggressively quiet
Except for a man talking with authority
At first we think to someone through headphones
And then we conclude
His ears are empty and he’s telling
Himself something important
Something with authority.
You say I can’t get a read on him. And I think
it’s different now to exist somewhere else.
I inherited a long vocal awe-ful “wooow!”
From you
And the blossoms are pulling it out of me
Looking, smelling, insisting you smell
Too. Then pictures
Because it’s an urgent moment.
You remind me to look closely
Your hand is in some pictures
Reaching out
Holding a branch down
So I can capture blossoms right
Then we cross the tracks
And your wooow comes
At a pile of sticks
That you insist on capturing
As I insisted on blossoms.
Althea Seloover, 2020