Conversation in Isolation
Neighbors nail the planks
dividing their yard from mine.
Our durable fence.
I walk half a block
before realizing I’ve
forgotten my mask.
One ant following
another, trusting we all
are going somewhere.
Stretched between two poles,
clothesline outside my window,
a robin’s rest stop.
Lemons fallen on
the sidewalk to be rescued
for my potpourri.
No one and nothing
touches me but this blue wind
with cool caresses.
Copyright © 2021 by Harryette Mullen. Originally published in Poem-a-Day on September 20, 2021, by the Academy of American Poets.
“This excerpt from a haiku journal coincides with a period of isolation, as a public health measure, in Los Angeles, California, in the year 2020. As a dreaded virus traveled freely around the globe, I sheltered within the physical limits and daily rituals of a circumscribed life.”
—Harryette Mullen