Lock Down 2

Lock Down Drip and drizzle water falls from the faucet the leaves rustled near the window a sharp bark of a small dog nearby shatters street silence —the tub is  bright white filled with paper towels  water jugs, soup and beans,  cans in multi blues orange and greens in the silence there is a sudden roar a large black truck drives by  I hear the coo coo of a dove on the fence hammering  starts iin metallic blows a child is calling out for her dad I have never seen her or her father  both are hidden behind fences and trees. Daisy my little dog jumps on my lap,  her nose and panting feel moist by my cheek warm grasses and tangy dandelion scents  drifted by as we walked in the free breeze   there is one man grey and white hair keeping his  distance, waving hello saying “thank  goodness they opened the parks!” my mask  was on but his was not, I waved back  but I am identified at risk warned by my doctor a weak immunity— the cancer can return,  “wear a mask and keep away from the sick.”  my neighbor claims she does not need one the park has reopened and people walk by  but the children’s playground is wrapped up in what looks like crime tape, yellow with black Daisy jumps up again and I stroke her head  I feel her tremble in our small home so much stillness and quiet vigilance REDONE