Fresh Air Walk During a Pandemic
There was rain that would not touch me,
followed by sunlight that surrounded me
but kept a respectful distance.
Even pollen seemed deferential.
Skirting the edge of the trail,
passing hikers offered a simple hello.
The birds treated it like any other day,
their distance a product of instinct,
mine a matter of discretion.
Cedar branches swayed in the breeze,
flinging leftover rain droplets,
a reminder that things could be normal again.
This is my poem for Day 2 of National/Global Poetry Writing Month.
It’s off-prompt, but I’m sharing it at napowrimo.net.
Also shared with Open Link Night #263 at dVerse Poets Pub.
rivrvlogr 
I take the dog out at night for a walk and love the fresh air. Beautiful poem!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
So do I 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
I love all you compare the elements keeping their distance to the present times–until the cedar branches! Lovely poem, Ken, with a touch of gentle humor.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Merril. Nature’s ability to both observe and to cure.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, exactly!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like your comparison of the birds keeping their distance from us by instinct.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Frank.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is incredibly evocative. Especially love that last stanza ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. 😀
LikeLike
Wonderful poem, Ken, and perfect, uplifting ending!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Lynne. 🙂 We persevere.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love the birds line. Flinging droplets reminded me of the contagion. It was refreshing even to read.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That thought occurred to me – a cough without consequences.
LikeLike
Sci Fi writes of the black rain that kills. I too was spooked by the word droplet. Welcome to the new normal.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, when every handshake will bring second thoughts.
LikeLike
Your line, “The birds treated it like any other day” is perfect. Today, I went out to try to record the hail and was surprised by two geese. They didn’t care.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
If bird’s care, it’s about the bird feeder. We’re just incidental.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m left smiling, which is a difficult thing to do these days.
Your pollen should have a talk with the pollen here.
(K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
😀
The oak leaves are just starting to break out, so it won’t be long for me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I look forward to that time when things can go back to “normal”. I believe though that things will be altered forever by this pandemic.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It does seem like we’ve become a world of apprehension.
LikeLike
We are inundated with oak pollen … but rain also … so the buildup in the air has remained tolerable.
And getting outdoors is incredibly therapeutic, perhaps more so as a solo jaunt. I like the spirit of this poem, everything alive with energy … perks me up just reading this.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. 🙂 I’ve had some early hints of oak pollen, but it’s been a wet spring, so they’re interspersed with clear days. I hope this turns out to be a mild year.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I really like this, Ken, the imagery and the progression of your poem. Also, the thought of pollen being deferential was amusing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. I’ve been the target of oak pollen’s practical jokes since I moved to Missouri 8 years ago. I miss the maples of Western New York.
LikeLike
Nature is our all, if we simply let it be. Beautiful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That it is. Thank you, Lisa.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very good Ken… We must not lose hope that things will get back to normal in the near future!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Dwight. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love this, Ken! We took a drive to Eagle Bluffs and off one of the side roads, you can park and walk to the river. It’s a short walk and the way is sandy because of the flood last year. Nice and breezy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Barb. We’ve had some nice outdoors days (when we aren’t having hail and torrential rain)
LikeLiked by 1 person
If only the weather would keep a respectful distance! I like the polite pollen, ‘Skirting the edge of the trail, / passing hikers offered a simple hello’. Thank goodness for the trees, reminding us that things could be normal again.Your poem lifted my spirits this morning, Ken.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kim. The order of “Skirting the edge of the trail/ passing hikers offered a simple hello” was reversed in the previous draft, but I chose this order so “Skirting” also could be associated with the pollen. I’m glad it worked out.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful scene
LikeLiked by 1 person
There’s some nice tension in this set up in the first stanzas – the rain keeping distance; the pollen deferential; skirting the edge of the trail – and then a joyful, almost haiku final – with the cedars raining everywhere. Satisfying and hopeful.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you.
LikeLike
That opening is stunning — the very idea that nature could/would keep its distance when it’s the very essence of sustenance and healing. Deeply touching poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. Perhaps it’s a tentative touch, sensing areas that need healing.
LikeLike
Cedar branches swayed in the breeze,
flinging leftover rain droplets..
Love this image. A nice poem Ken.
Pat
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cedar branches swayed in the breeze,
flinging leftover rain droplets..
Love this image. A nice poem Ken.
Pat
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. 🙂
LikeLike
Wonderful imagery of a new world we are experiencing. ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Em. The luxuries allowed to us grow fewer each day.
LikeLiked by 1 person