A Wave Or Nod

New Yorkers rarely say hello To strangers on the street, Though folks in other towns may smile At everyone they meet. Yet during the pandemic, Seeing friends became so rare That the need to make connections Seemed to permeate the air. So for some familiar faces I’d encounter in the dark, On my early morning walks, There’d be a recognition spark. Soon a wave or nod would follow, Which in turn became a smile, Making mornings so much brighter As I clocked off every mile. That acknowledgement is precious For it proves I’m not alone; Even in the biggest city, I am noticed, I am known.