Will We Ever Feel Safe Outside Again?
March 31, 2020
Will we ever feel safe outside again?
I asked, pulling on my last pair of gloves
As the rubber stretched its way over my fingers.
I usually wear a mask too
But now that the shelves are empty
And the Surgeon General warns against it
I have saved the last two
People usually stand six feet apart in line
They cross the streets like scattered beans
Anxious and in haste, it's hard to believe that we are going to be fine
We refuse to touch door knobs
Hold on to rails
And we watch carefully, what part of the shopping bag the clerk grabs
We no longer shake hands
Sometimes we elbow or wave
But we would rather keep to ourselves on errands
I refuse to take the bus
I refuse to take the train
Having my bike has been a definite plus
And when I return home
That old, torn, filthy gloves doesn't come with me
And I soak my hand in sud and foam