Fresh Air Walk During a Pandemic
A poem by Ken Gierke

Fresh Air Walk During a Pandemic

A light rain that would not touch me, was
followed by sunlight that surrounded me
from a respectful distance.

Pollen seemed deferential. Skirting
the edge of the trail with shared concern,
passing hikers offered a simple hello.

Birds treated it like any other day,
their distance a product of instinct,
mine a matter of discretion.

A fox watched warily from grass
taller than both of us, as if to acknowledge
we’d never really meet face-to-face.

Cedar branches swayed in the breeze,
flinging leftover rain droplets,
a reminder that things could be normal again.

The same but different, when different
means an awareness of droplets
and we find new ways to mask our concerns.

About the Author:

Ken Gierke is retired and writes primarily in free verse and haiku, often inspired by hiking and kayaking. His poetry has been published or is forthcoming in print and online in such places as Ekphrastic Review, Amethyst Review, Silver Birch Press, Trailer Park Quarterly, Rusty Truck, The Gasconade Review, and River Dog Zine. Glass Awash, his first collection of poetry, was published by Spartan Press in 2022. His website: https://rivrvlogr.com/

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