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.
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